The Photo Effect
by starlight2005
Summary: Sometimes you just have to believe in second chances...
1. Chapter 1

**Title: The Photo Effect **

**Author: starlight2005**

**Pairing: … surprise (oh fine) Seto/Yami**

**Summary: People say it's best to be loved and be loved in return. Once upon a time, there was a story. And immediately after that once upon a time came the end. **

**A/N: To those who know, I'm sure you also know the reason why I'm writing this. I just couldn't stop thinking about it. So there… This is only a test. A chapter to uhm… check the waters, so to speak. If you want me to continue, please drop a word. **

**A/N 2: No, I am not going to stop writing Blood is Red or In Explanation. I just have to get this out of my system. Apparently, a handful of people think I'm going to do something stupid or something. :sigh: **

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Chapter 1: Once upon a time…

_It's too late to apologize, it's too late. _

- Apologize, One Republic

XXX

Few, if not none, could surprise the 'great' Yami Motou; and with reason. The King of Games had been through many ordeals—villains, end-of-the-world plots and basically just about anyone who's insane enough to threaten the lives of those he cared about. After he had gotten his own body with the help of Ishizu, Yami had moved on from being the past-less pharaoh and gotten himself a life. He went back to having whatever level of education he still needed and graduated with flying colors.

'You're off to college, Yami! How cool is that?' His aibou had greeted him immediately after he had received his diploma.

College. They didn't have one of those in Ancient Egypt. Okay, granted that he did receive the best of education there was in his time… this was different, wasn't it? And who would think that a former 3000-year old spirit would actually enroll now in one of the most prestigious universities in the country? The degree wasn't really as important as settling in, though. Yami was convinced that he could handle the pressure and the load but what about Yugi and the other friends he had left behind? Were they not due for one more year in high school? And Grandpa! Who's going to look after him?

"Yami, open up!"

Yami blinked, realizing that he had just dozed off for the nth time that day. Beside him, his cellular phone beeped. It was 9 o'clock already?

"I'm coming!"

The college student yanked the door open and was met by a hug. Daniel Grey smiled drunkenly at his dorm mate.

"It's 9 PM and you're already drunk? You're unbelievable," the former pharaoh remarked as he guided the other boy to the bathroom. From outside, he could hear the snickers from Daniel's friends. That guy… Yami shook his head.

"What? I aced _his _test! That is reason for celebration, mind you." Daniel explained; well, that would have been the explanation if the boy hadn't been slurring. Apparently, any sense of reason had flown out of the window. The former pharaoh could have laughed if he weren't busy worrying about his own set of tests tomorrow.

"I trust you can get out of the bathroom alone?" Yami asked, leaning on the doorway as he watched Daniel lean on the sink. Honestly, if the guy was going to throw up, it would have been better to lean on the toilet bowl, wouldn't it? Daniel nodded at the question. "My head hurts," he muttered.

Yami sighed.

"Listen, I'm going out, okay? Don't bolt the door. I'll be back by midnight," he called to his drunken friend. He heard a grunt in response. Daniel Grey was exasperating most of the time—how the guy handled both his studies and his escapades at night was something Yami wanted to ask—but on those rare but sober moments, the guy proved to be rather… reasonable and less judging. About one particular matter, anyway. _Or two_, Yami thought.

XXX

The night air was chilly, to describe it best. Yami cursed, he should have brought a thicker jacket. In the first place, he shouldn't have left early. He planned on going at 10:30, after he was done researching about gang violence for his Sociology report. Unfortunately, the moment Grey knocked on the door, drunkenly mind you, Yami was convinced he wouldn't be able to concentrate on whatever task was at hand. He might as well leave, right?

Wrong.

Yami shivered. After high school, he decided to cut his night trips to a minimum (borderline none). It just wasn't worth it. In a more practical point of view, why go out when he could have done so many things inside his dorm room? Like studying… or chatting with his aibou. He missed Yugi and the rest of the gang. He even missed the Tomb Robber, and that was saying something. College was nice and all—pursuit of higher education and what-not—but what was the point if you couldn't even find the time to spend time with family and friends?

The former pharaoh realized just how stupid the question was. Of course college was important! Yugi did his best just to find a way for Yami to be sent to a good university. Grandpa had agreed profusely, claiming that his 'other grandson' must not waste his talents. From a distance, Yami could see the darkened path leading to the park. A walk in the park would be nice, he thought to himself.

_Wouldn't it be better if _he _was here to walk with you?_

Gods, Yami must be losing his mind right now. Granted that he was in the mood to follow the schedule in his planner, he should be going eastward—not west, as he was doing right now—and he should be looking for someone to buy white lilies from. If he took the train, he would have been to that place in ten minutes. Then why didn't he? He really didn't know.

It would be the last thing he could do, to apologize, wouldn't it? If it weren't for him, _he _wouldn't be stuck there for who-knows-how-long. If he would even get out, Yami had no idea anymore. Yami sighed for the umpteenth time. If anyone saw him right now, kicking dirt like the dirt had done something horrible to him, and sulking when he could be doing something else, they would have thought he was just another pathetic excuse of a student. Wouldn't they? Many would kill just to enroll in the university; many would do just about everything to maintain their grades and retain their position in the same university. And here was Yami trudging in the dirt.

"_You study too much."_

"_Not all can afford the tuition fee. They have to work it off through their scholarship, if I may point out?" _

"_The point remains. It's well past 1 a.m., Yami! Anything you would study from now wouldn't even stay in your mind. You're going to forget them eventually," the other remarked, playing with the desk lamp's switch. On, off, on, off, light, dark, light, dark, light, da—_

"_Cut it out, Lance!" _

_Lance wrapped his arms around Yami's neck and dragged him down for a kiss. _

"_You're adorable when you're annoyed. Do you know that?" _

_Yami pouted and looked away. "I'm serious. I really have to study. The prof's going to kill me if I don't have this report finalized by tomorrow." _

"_What? That man's sadistic, I tell you. Your class with him isn't until 6:30 in the evening, right?" Lance asked. The former pharaoh crossed his arms and glared at him. Lance laughed before stealing a quick kiss. "Alright, alright. I'll leave you alone. I'll just sulk in that corner over there—" Lance pointed at the dark corner to the east of the both of them, "and wait until my Yami pulls me away and kisses me goodnight." _

"_Fine," Yami conceded, standing up to approach the smugly smiling figure on the bed. Lance sat up and patted the space beside him. The former pharaoh shook his head in amusement then crushed their lips together._

"_That's more like it," Lance grinned, falling back into what was Yami's formerly neatly made bed, dragging the other with him. _

"_Lance!" _

"_Oh, fine. Spoilsport." _

Lance was a foreign exchange student, along with Daniel. And it had been through Daniel that Yami met him. Of course, after accidentally insulting him, Yami wasn't able to react much when Lance insulted him about his choice of hair color in return. Regardless if it really had been done on purpose (as his rather _helpful _dorm-mate had pointed out), Lance and Yami had hit off right away. After a mishap in their Economics project, they decided to spend the rest of the night in a bar. Who would have thought that Yami, former pharaoh of a great kingdom, would be receiving his first kiss from an almost complete stranger?

But it had been fun. He couldn't stop talking when Yugi had called the next day. Immediately, the protected light became the overprotective guardian. Yugi demanded that he meet this Lance guy as soon as possible. The call was made one month ago and as soon as possible was meant to be today.

XXX

Daniel Grey swore the moment he heard someone pounding on the door. Glancing at the clock and realizing it was only 6 _bloody _AM, he grumpily sat up, grabbed one lump pillow and threw it at the door. The knocking hadn't stopped, however.

"Yami Motou, you open up this instant!"

Oh God. What is _she _doing here?

Don't get him wrong. Daniel didn't like prying on people. Other people's business is well… their business. He didn't like interfering except if it concerned him, or any immediate member of his circle of friends. His family was not really included in the list anymore, seeing that they all died in a fire seven years ago. Not that it was important. But the moment he met Yami Motou, a brave soul—who would have thought that a freshman would have the guts to contradict a professor's statement about Ancient Egypt?—and an unfortunately, extremely studious one, Daniel was quite convinced that this one was really special.

And like all special people, Daniel just had to tell his best friend, a.k.a. Mr. All-around Friendly Guy (Daniel gagged; friendly?!), Lance O'Neil about it. Lance's girlfriend didn't like it at all. Why Lance even went out with her is something Daniel didn't understand, or would ever want to, in this case. That girl was just about hilarious and extremely infuriating! Thank God Lance broke up with her and went out with Yami instead. Hallelujah.

"MOTOU!"

"What in the hell is your problem, woman?!" Daniel shouted after opening the door.

"Where is that—"

"He isn't here. Thank you for asking, bye now."

"Wait, don't close the—"

Daniel smirked. _Too late_, he already closed the door. Off to sleep now.

"It's about Lance!"

Lance? He went back to opening the door. "What about him?" He demanded, headache and hang-over forgotten. Where was Yami anyway? He was supposed to be in the dorm a couple of hours ago. Midnight, Yami said. "Come on, spill."

The woman sobbed.

"Lance's dead."

No. Daniel blinked. That wasn't possible. They just visited him two days ago and the doctors said he'd be alright! "You're lying. I suggest you leave us alone now, unless you want to be chased down the hallway with knives. You wouldn't like it if I catch you," Daniel warned darkly, glaring at the obviously distraught woman before him. It was really about deciding who has the credibility to bring such news—the doctors, who themselves told both Yami and him that Lance would be okay, or this… bitch.

The woman stopped, brought out her phone and slammed it on his chest. "You don't believe me? Call the hospital. Call the doctor now!"

Daniel took the phone and dialed the phone number he knew by heart now.

"Hello?" came the voice from the other receiver.

"Yami, what's going on?"

TBC?


	2. Chapter 2

I could hardly believe it when I heard the news today

**A/N: Here's the next chapter. Second to the last day of finals week. :celebrates: Thanks to the people who reviewed previous chapter!**

**Chapter 2: In a faraway land… **

_I could hardly believe it when I heard the news today _

_I had to come and get it straight from you_

- How Am I Supposed to Live Without You, Michael Bolton

XXX

The coffee had long been cold, the aroma long been gone. It was surprising that despite the trembling of his hands, Yami had not dropped his cup. One of the doctors, Dr. Yamamoto, placed a hand on his shoulder to show his condolence before whispering an apology. _'I'm sorry, we made a mistake, _the doctor said. Apologies wouldn't bring him back, Yami thought bitterly.

"There was nothing to be done," another doctor reasoned out, as if by his explanation the apology could make everything better again.

"I need some time alone," Yami muttered, doing his best to not meet the gaze of any of the three doctors who approached him. Behind the doctors was the door leading to Lance's room.

"We will…" Dr. Yamamoto stuttered, apparently the most affected one among the three, "… be in our office. You are welcome to talk to us, Mr. Motou." At the curt nod, the doctor sighed and bowed his head. He knew that this teen wouldn't come to him or any of them, for that matter. They never go and talk about deaths like this—and the fact that they, experienced doctors that they were, made a mistake and kept this man's hope alive was a burden that hung on his shoulder.

"Thank you," Yami said eventually, aware that Dr. Yamamoto had stayed behind. "But I will be fine."

"Mr. Mo—"

"I will be, sir." And Yami left it at that.

He could feel the stares from the nurses who sat silently from the station. Instantly, Yami turned his back on them and stood up instead. There was a reason behind him going to the hospital once, or twice a week; and that was to avoid people like them to gossip over the 'grieving lover'. Yami was done with being in the spotlight. And he was done being branded like some product.

When he was alone, the former pharaoh sighed and closed his eyes. Somehow the news hadn't sunk in yet, or if it had, Yami was pretty much in a state of shock that he couldn't react properly. Lance was dead. Time of death was 9:15 p.m. Where was he at that time? He was only headed to the train by then. Gods, he was only headed to the hospital at that time!

Guilt made Yami shiver and look at the closed door forlornly. They had been together for one month, and within that short span of a time, Lance became an important person in his world. (Oh yes, Yami has definitely turned into a romantic sap.) Love was overrated so it wasn't necessarily out of love that he had an interest on the guy, right? He liked Lance. But love? How does one know what love is?

_You love someone when you'd do everything for that person._

Aibou had said that out of the blue a couple of months ago. They were arguing about Anzu again—try as he may, Yugi just couldn't get over the fact that his friend had grown out of her 'schoolgirl crush'. The same question had been raised, and Yugi was confident with his answer. How troubling. What, then, is the difference between friendly from romantic love? Was there even a difference? If that were the case, then Yami loved his friends. Of course he did, he'd die for them. He loved his classmates even though they were annoying because he'd do everything to help them.

_People call that 'hero complex', Yami_.

He could imagine Lance pointing it out with his familiar, teasing voice. And Yami would be annoyed at the notion, punch him playfully before proceed on ignoring him all day. Then Lance would think up of ways to annoy the former pharaoh some more until Yami gives in and start banter between them.

Yami realized that he should be more affected than this. If it weren't for him, those thugs wouldn't have ganged up on them and hit Lance on the head with a rock. Lance wouldn't have been on a coma and eventually die. The former pharaoh wouldn't have lost him. And it wasn't because Lance was his boyfriend. He was also Yami's friend, and perhaps one of the few people who knew Yami well enough. It wasn't the knowledge that Lance was someone who not only befriended him, but treated him with more care and affection. It wasn't that at all.

He could have done something. He could have called for help the night that they were cornered. He could have pushed Lance away so that he would be the one who gets hit, not Lance. Yami could have protected Lance the same way he protected his aibou, or his other friends. But he didn't… and now Lance was dead.

"Mr. Motou."

Yami fought hard not to glare at Dr. Yamamoto. That man was persistent!

"I said I'm okay, Doctor."

"Of course you are, Mr. Motou," Dr. Yamamoto decided to agree. Perhaps it would be better to calm the teen down before letting him meet the patient's sister. Anastasia had made it clear that she didn't want to see Yami Motou at the moment. But they were bound to meet, seeing that Yami was already headed back to his boyfriend's room. Anastasia was rather inconveniently waiting for the doctors to arrive in what used to be her brother's room in the hospital.

"Then why are you here?"

It was more of a demand, come to think of it. It was impatience, not inquiry and it should have hinted out that Yami was not in the mood to talk to anyone. But the doctor was determined to see things through and make things—if not better—at least bearable to an extent. He shouldn't have kept Yami Motou's hope up only to gun it down. And Dr. Yamamoto was sure that Yami wasn't the only one who was affected by the patient's death. Lance's best friend, Daniel Grey, kept calling night after night to ask about Lance's condition.

This guilt was overwhelming.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save him," the doctor blurted out. For some unknown reason, seeing a young man before him bow his head then look away, shoulders sagged as if wearied and dull eyes clouding every emotion with blankness troubled him. The youth, as a whole, were known to have an unquenchable thirst for life. No time to stop, no need for delays. They had vigor that men like him, the old, the weakening, no longer had. But Yami Motou was anything but what is known about the youth.

"I'm sorry, too." And Yami left it at that, walking away to prevent anyone from seeing the tears in his eyes.

XXX

Yugi sighed tiredly as he collapsed on his bed. Jonouchi laughed from the doorway before turning the lamp on. The amethyst-eyed teen glared at his blonde friend.

"You know, just because you and Honda plan to cram on your project doesn't mean all of us have to. At least I won't have to stay up late tomorrow," Yugi pointed out. This only earned him another chuckle, which came from behind Jonouchi. "Shut up, Honda." Said teen bowed teasingly before he fell on the bed with a plop. "Lazy heads," Yugi muttered.

"Aww… calm down, Yugi," Jonouchi playfully soothed, resting his hands on each of the other's shoulder. The blonde looked at the desk lamp, which had a clock built in with it. The time read 11:18 p.m. "Hey, aren't we supposed to meet Yami tonight?" He asked, staring at his friend and waiting for the answer.

Yugi shrugged, "He's supposed to call. He said he would go here but I haven't heard from him since last week. I'm really worried. Maybe we should visit him? What if something—"

_**No! He's not dead!**_

There was despair in such cry, and Yugi, for the best of him, suddenly found that he couldn't breathe. He doubled over. He knew. It was Yami's voice! Something did happen… and from the emotion itself, pure God-forsaken despair that it was, Yugi felt that he needed to see his dark immediately.

"Yugi?"

Yugi gasped. "We need to go."

"Where?"

"Something's wrong with Yami, Jou," the teen pleaded, "We have to go!"

Jounouchi Katsuya frowned in confusion. He had long accepted the fact that Yugi and Yami could really converse without talking. Mind link or something… but this change was unexpected. A minute ago, Yugi was busy talking to the both of them. He couldn't have been talking to his dark at the same time, could he? That wasn't possible. But then, how did he… and how did Yami…? This was very confusing.

"What are you staring at, Jou? Come on!" Honda smacked him with a pillow and dragged him towards the car. How Honda managed to get a driver's license was a story for another day, but to Yugi, at least it wasn't Jou. He knew he would fear for his life and the one in the afterlife if it was Jou on the wheel. Yugi sighed. He hadn't communicated with his dark via the link since their Ceremonial Duel. As far as the link was concerned—and according to Ishizu—the link should have been gone.

But it was really Yami's voice!

Exactly. And for him to be able to feel something that Yami was most likely feeling, it can only mean that whatever it was, it was intense. From the looks of it, it wasn't a pleasant feeling, either. But what if he was overreacting? What if Yami was really alright and that Yugi had only imagined this? Could he even risk such a thing when there are higher chances of Yami actually hurting at that moment?

XXX

It seemed impossible to get any sleep. There were just so many things to think about. Dr. Yamamoto had finally left him alone, something that Yami was so grateful for. He couldn't help but wish the elderly man didn't go, though. The silence was quite stifling and he wasn't in the mood to deal with it right now. Anastasia never liked him. Then again, Anastasia didn't like her brother being bisexual anyway. So Yami guessed it was only natural that the girl would transfer her hatred to him.

The former pharaoh leaned on the vending machine beside him.

This was unfair. It wasn't his fault that Lance was attracted to him. It wasn't his fault that Lance and Monica broke up and that Anastasia was rather disappointed with the break-up of the "most wonderful couple in the world!" He conceded, though. Anastasia made it clear the moment she cast her contempt-filled eyes on him earlier that there would be no forgiveness on her part. He ruined her brother's life and that would forever be the fact in her world.

It didn't do anything to lessen the burden on Yami's shoulders. Grief hung over him like a cloud and the guilt was making it worse.

Was it possible to die just by choking from these emotions?

Dr. Yamamoto could only watch silently, helplessly as the girl slapped the former pharaoh hard upon entering the room. Any hope of reconciliation with Anastasia flew out of the window. Unfortunately, it made Yami feel worse. So much worse.

Okay, it was his fault. Lance shouldn't have died. God, did she think he wanted Lance to die? For crying out loud, he was no psychopath! Contrary to what she believes, Yami really did care for her brother a lot.

"_Why didn't you protect him?! Why didn't you stop them?"_

And it always boils down to that.

Try as he may, he couldn't find the answer.

"You need to rest, young man. Do you want me to drive you to your dorm?"

Oh God, why is he back? Yami fought down a groan and shook his head. He quickly muttered an 'I'm fine' before pulling his knees together and resting his head on top of both.

"I'm afraid his sister had arranged everything including the funeral," the doctor pointed out, sitting beside the former pharaoh.

"Look, I appreciate all—" Just as Yami started to send the doctor off, his cellular phone rang. Funny, he didn't recognize the number at all.

"Hello?"

"Yami, what's going on?"

Daniel. Yami stiffened. How do you tell someone that his best friend had just died and expect him to handle it well?

"Yami? Are you still there?"

"Come to the hospital, quick," was all that Yami could say. He saw the doctor shake his head before he was called away by a nurse. Apparently, Lance wasn't the only one who would be dying that day. Yami frowned and closed his eyes. His head hurt and it was most likely caused by a lack of sleep. But something else hurts, too; and it doesn't look like it's going to stop any time soon.

He eventually woke up to someone shaking him. Daniel's voice rang out loud enough to make him wince. Yami opened his eyes, immediately adjusting to the light. Was it morning already? How much time had passed since the phone call?

"Daniel, hello," the monarch greeted only to be met by a hug. Compared to the hug a few hours ago, this was tight and more meant to comfort than something to cling onto. Daniel sighed. "The doctors told me," his dorm-mate told him. Yami looked away but the other just forced him to look back. "Hey, listen… this isn't your fault, Yami. It isn't."

Yami shook his head, "Sure, it's not. It doesn't change the fact that he's dead, either," he retorted.

"Yami—"

"No, Daniel!" Yami bitterly wiped the tears away. He had been crying? How pathetic of him. "I can pretend all I want and I can say that I didn't kill him. I'm sorry, I _did_. We weren't supposed to go out that night but I insisted, damn it. I _insisted_!"

"Don't be an idiot. You know well enough that you couldn't have known. _You didn't know_. Don't be too hard on yourself."

"No."

"Yami…"

"I said no. Thanks for all your help, Daniel, but…" the tri-haired teen trailed off, seeing the visible traces of disappointment and sadness in the other's eyes, "… I have to go. I'll just call you or something."

Yami darted off despite his friend's calls. In the first place, he didn't even hear any of those calls. He didn't hear anything but Anastasia's words. Honestly, he agreed with her completely.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Okay, here we go. Something's telling me that there are three things that might happen after reading the story: (1) that you won't like it; (2) that it would seem rushed; or (3) it sucked. :groan: Thanks to those who reviewed in the previous chapters!**

* * *

**Chapter 3: A solemn prince and his brother…**

_And I would have stayed up with you all night_

_Had I known how to save a life _

- How to Save a Life, The Fray

XXX

In the darkness of his dreams, Yami ached. It was mostly a world of continuing whirlpools and air deprivation. He had to feel the oxygen leave his very lungs and feel his body cry for it before he could pass through what he considered the 'initial stage'. It didn't matter that this was beginning to be a nightmare more and more. At that point, as he found himself in between two paths, everything was as real as reality could be.

There was a narrow path, and from the looks of it, it was getting narrower. At the end was a partially opened door that was made of what seemed to be mahogany. Behind the door, there was light. Yami was at the far end of the path, incredibly away from the door. And he couldn't move at all.

He tried moving his left leg and when he couldn't, he tried on the other one. To his dismay, nothing happened. The path continued to narrow until the part nearest the door was almost inexistent.

Yami knew that it was a dream. A dream that completely made no sense, that is. He should be waking up now. People wake up the moment they realize they're dreaming, don't they? That's what his psychology professor taught him a few lessons back. Dreams are the works of the subconscious, but they aren't harmful. So why isn't he waking up?

"Yami."

The voice was familiar. Yami stiffened at the call, despite being a breathy whisper.

He knew that voice. God, that voice!

It made sense, he supposed. If this was really Lance, then it would only be appropriate that Lance would be in his dream. How many hours had passed after receiving the news anyway? He's heard of incidents like this from other people—okay, so he didn't really know those people so much but at least he had an idea, right? At least, Yami didn't have to fear the fact that just after hearing about _his _death, Yami wasn't losing it.

Was rationalizing like this possible in a dream? Maybe; he's already doing it, isn't he?

Just then, he felt the ground beneath him collapse. Before Yami knew it, he was falling and from the looks of it, it seemed that wherever he was falling into, it was depthless. Yami couldn't stifle the scream that came with his fall. He desperately held onto something, _anything _that he could hold on but unlike falling from a cliff in the real world, there are no branches to hold on to. There aren't even slabs of rock to cling to. It was darkness all throughout—and darkness was pervading. It threatened to consume him.

He could have cried out for help even though he knew no one would come. It would be natural for anyone to ask for someone to save him but it seemed that to Yami, that must not be the case. He got himself into this mess—granted that this was a dream and that he really, really did not expect to fall—and he was the only person who could get himself out of it.

Apparently, someone thought otherwise because Yami's hand was grabbed and then he was lifted up. When previously, Yami's eyes had closed, now they opened and he found himself staring into twinkling familiar brown eyes.

"Lance—"

It took him a few more seconds to get over the shock. Not that those seconds helped. Lance had hugged him before he could utter anything beyond the first word.

"I'm sorry, Yami."

The former pharaoh's eyes widened, was there something Lance had to apologize for? Yami shook his head and looked away. Lance only forced him to look at him, "I'm sorry I can't be with you."

News of what happened to his boyfriend came back. It didn't make sense to apologize for dying. It wasn't Lance's fault! It _isn't_ his fault at all. Yami could have done something. He felt that he _should _have done something instead of watching in part shock and part fear as his boyfriend slump to the ground and lose consciousness. Yami was responsible for Lance's death. He should be apologizing.

"I should have protected you," Yami muttered and buried his face in the other's chest. He could feel Lance wrap his arms around him, but this time, he didn't feel better at all. It only made things worse.

"Yami."

"I'm so sorry," the former pharaoh whispered to himself and felt that he was crying now. He felt the other sigh.

"Yami…?"

"I—"

"**YAMI!" **

Yami looked up, opened his eyes and realized that he had just woken up from his dream. There were still some tears left in his eyes. He had cried in his sleep, and he had fallen asleep on his homework for his first class. He turned to the direction the voice came from, and immediately, he found his light staring in concern at him. The former pharaoh inwardly cursed. This isn't good at all.

"Aibou," he greeted, smiling and failing miserably to make it look convincing. Yugi hugged him hard.

XXX

Daniel Grey had just finished talking to his best friend's distraught sister when a classmate called him to inform that someone was looking for Yami. Since Yami usually went with him, his classmate thought that the former pharaoh would be wherever he was. Daniel had thanked the guy before deciding that it was time to go back to the dorm.

Upon arriving, he instantly recognized Yugi. It wasn't hard. Yugi and Yami could easily be mistaken as twins, although Yugi was shorter and far more… cheerful-looking compared to his older brother.

"Yugi, hey," Daniel greeted. The younger Motou turned to him, eyes wide with frantic concern. The door to the dorm room remained locked. Yami wasn't probably inside, Daniel thought to himself. He sighed and asked, "How long have you been waiting?"

"A few minutes. I knocked on the door but no one's answering. Someone next door came out, though, and asked for my name," Yugi answered. Mentally, he tried on the link—if it was even there. It had to be if he felt his yami's distress, right? He saw Daniel nod before opening the door. They found no trace of Yami inside.

"Did you go here on your own?"

Yugi shook his head, "Jou and Honda are with me. But I sent them to the nearby hotel. They're exhausted," he explained. Yugi wondered for a while if it was right of him to demand that his two friends accompany him. He saw Daniel nod, letting the younger Motou in the room afterwards.

Immediately, Yugi settled for his dark's bed, aware that it hadn't been slept on for the night. Where was Yami? He looked at his dark's dorm-mate; saw the other look away forlornly into the window. Daniel's face was ashen, paler than it was supposed to be. And from the way he bit his slightly trembling lips, Yugi realized that whatever that Yami was distressed about was the same for Daniel.

"Daniel, what's going on?" Yugi asked, earning the surprised stare of the blonde.

The blonde hesitated, saw the look on the younger Motou's face and wondered if it was right of him to tell Yugi the news. Yami wouldn't have done it anyway, would he? Daniel shook his head, it wasn't his place to tell.

"I'm sorry, Yugi. Yami should be the one to tell you."

"Where did he go?" It was an honest question. Yugi really did want to know; sadly, Daniel had no idea where his dorm-mate was. He had tried to run after Yami in the hospital but he saw Anastasia and was suddenly compelled to offer his condolences. Anastasia was Lance's sister, after all. Daniel thought Yami could handle himself while he comforted his best friend's sister.

Apparently, he was so wrong.

Something could have happened to Yami, and he didn't even know where the person is.

Before him, Yugi yawned, recognizing that he really needed to sleep. It didn't go unnoticed, if Daniel's frown was any indication.

"You need to rest," Daniel pointed out, "Why don't I just call you when he's here?"

Yugi conceded with a nod, watching behind now-half-lidded eyes. He really needed to go back to his hotel room and rest. Why he even rushed all the way from Domino, he didn't know. He could have left early in the morning, not in the middle of the night. But then, he wouldn't have got here sooner, would he?

Yugi sighed.

"Thank you."

"Don't worry about it, Yugi," Daniel smiled and ruffled his hair. But this time, his smile didn't reach to his eyes, Yami's aibou noted.

"Take care," Yugi responded, instead. This was no time to argue about his age, he realized. "See you later!"

He saw Daniel nod before he went out of the room and straight to the street, where a cab was conveniently waiting for him. Somehow, in the back of his mind, he couldn't help but think that whatever troubled Yami and Daniel so much isn't as simple as he thought it to be.

XXX

It had been hours after their meeting that a worried Daniel called Yugi, whose sleep was cut short by Jou and Honda's antics. Yugi had sat up groggily then, snatched the ringing phone from Jou and answered it, hoping that Yami was already in the dorm.

And Yami was. But that was the least of their problems. Daniel had called him not only to inform him that his dark was there already but also to ask help because try as he may, Daniel couldn't wake Yami up from his dreams. Yami had also been disturbingly crying in his sleep, and frankly put, it was creeping Daniel out.

He was accustomed to Yami's dreams (or nightmares, to better describe it). But this was different and all Daniel could do was grasp the phone and dial the number of the person he knew could do something.

Yugi had arrived in ten minutes with Jou and Honda in tow. After seeing the two teens, Daniel decided to give them a brief tour of the area—and to distract them since he knew Yami would not like anyone else seeing him in such state—while his dorm mate's brother entered the room. Yugi instantly ran to Yami's side and started calling his name. By then, Daniel had already left.

"_Lance…"_

Lance?

Yugi's eyes widened in question, wondering if this was the Lance Yami was talking about a few weeks ago. They were supposed to meet the guy sometime this week, weren't they? The teen chuckled bitterly, he was even planning on scaring the guy just to make sure that he wouldn't hurt Yami.

"_I should have protected you."_

This time, Yugi decided it was time for his dark to wake up. He gently shook the other. But to no avail. What happened? Protect who? Lance? What happened to Lance?

Yugi can always ask for the answers to his questions when Yami woke up. Then the implication hit him like ice-cold water. Protect. Lance. Daniel was grieving from the way he looked earlier that day. And Daniel was Lance's best friend, or so Yami said.

Lance was… dead?

"Yami," he called. He wanted his dark to wake up. He wanted to have his questions answered, and his recent thought corrected. If Lance was dead, then Yami's odd behavior today would make sense. If Lance was dead, then the fact that Yami was hurting so much would also make sense to an extent. But if that was true, how can Yugi help?

"_I'm so sorry."_

There was a miserable, desperate tilt in the voice. Like saying goodbye, or pleading for something. It scared Yugi.

"Yami!" He tried shaking his dark again, but Yami only shook his head. Yugi was already on the verge of panic. He had to wake Yami up!

"_I—"_

"YAMI!"

The smile Yami gave was not reassuring as it would have been. There was something wrong and it drove Yugi nuts just looking for a way to make things better. And seeing the tears in his dark's eyes just broke his heart. Yami never cried even if he was hurting before. Yami never looked away in shame even if what he had done was embarrassing. Yami never—

"Yami," Yugi whispered and hugged tight. "What's going on?"

The former pharaoh had, expectedly, shaken his head and directed his gaze at Daniel's empty bed. "Nothing's wrong," he said and instantly, he knew Yugi wouldn't fall for the lie this time. The conviction that would have been there was absent and even he was aware of that. Well… his classmates didn't seem to notice this flaw in class today.

"There is," Yugi insisted, "and I know you're lying to me. Tell me what's hurting you, Yami."

"Nothing is."

"Yami—"

"Have you eaten?"

The abrupt change in topic was not unexpected at all, Yugi realized. He just… he wanted Yami to be honest about this one, he guessed. But he has to respect Yami's wishes. He'll tell when he's ready, wouldn't he?

"Not yet," Yugi sighed. "Do you want to eat out?"

Yami nodded. But it was more to appease his light than to confirm. Yugi knew. It was so like Yami to do that, but he tried to smile anyway. He watched the former pharaoh scribble a note and leave it at his desk before fixing his things. A few minutes later, Yami closed the door and led the way to the city mall.

XXX

At 8 o'clock in the evening, the mall was oddly… nearly empty. But then, it was a weekday and most of the students were in their rooms studying for their classes the next day. For dinner, they went to the nearest food chain they could see and since then, neither had talked about anything related to the incident earlier. Yugi sighed and picked on his fries, dabbing them with ketchup while Yami absentmindedly played with his straw.

There was a tension between the two, and well… at the moment, neither was willing to lighten up the atmosphere.

"Your taste for food is ridiculous, Mokuba."

Yami's eyes widened at the sound of his rival's voice. What was Kaiba doing here?

"Oh, come on, nii-sama! Please?"

At the sight of the two brothers, Yami inwardly cursed his luck. All he wanted was to be alone, much to his light's consternation, and the possibility of Seto Kaiba going into _this _food chain would also imply that he would have to be cordial with the brunet. At present, he was not in the mood to be the friendly rival. He blew a quick puff of air and forced himself not to hide. Yugi was watching him, though, but was unaware of the brothers' presence.

"Yugi? Yami?"

Mokuba's voice was bubbling with excitement, and it was enough to catch the hikari's attention. He turned around and found the raven-haired boy discreetly dragging his older brother towards their table. Was that the reason why Yami was fidgeting?

"Hello, Mokuba," Yugi greeted, offering the two empty seats in front of him to the two. Yami would kill him.

"Yugi!"

Yami coughed and stood up instantly, "I'll just wash my hands, aibou," he said before rushing to the C.R. He, of course, did not expect to be followed. He was, anyway.

For a few seconds, his mind raced. There were a limited few moments that he wouldn't face Seto Kaiba. One of those would be if he were extremely embarrassed and another would be when he was so close to snapping. He guessed the third reason was if he wasn't in the mood to be sociable. Talking to the brunet could be difficult sometimes. Yami sighed. He could always pretend to do something, couldn't he?

"What's wrong with you?"

Yami turned around. He should have expected it to come from Kaiba. Who else would demand an answer and so rudely at that?

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"Leave me alone, Kaiba," Yami snapped and walked away. It wasn't really hard to be angry at the other. They were always sparring, whether by deck or by words; and from time to time, his rival's insistence to know everything and anything about Yami irritated him. It made Kaiba look obsessed when the former pharaoh knew that couldn't be the case. He was only looking for means to demand another rematch, one that Yami wouldn't refuse anyway.

Kaiba glared before his lips curled into a smirk.

"And if I don't want to?"

"Then that's your problem. Goodbye."

A hand shot to his arm and stilled him, though.

"You're not going anywhere."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry, I was in the hospital these past days. When I got out, I had to stop and recuperate for a while, too, so no chapter-writing for me then. Thankfully, I managed to sneak a pen and a notebook in my bed—hooray—and uh… here's what it got me. **

**Well, anyway… here's a treat before I go back to college. Cheers. **

**Thanks for the reviews. Do drop a word after reading.

* * *

  
**

**Chapter 4: In a place no one could find… **

_It seems I found the road to nowhere _

_And I'm trying to escape _

- One Last Breath, Creed

XXX

The remark made Yami narrow his gaze and tug furiously on the grabbed arm. Who gave Kaiba the right to interfere?

"Clearly you don't understand what 'nothing' means," Yami tried getting away with insults, hurling them with as much loathing he could muster. He seemed to lack the anger, though, because Seto Kaiba was smirking smugly and the look on his face was beyond haughty already—Yami wanted the expression wiped off the brunet's chiseled face.

He heard Yugi and Mokuba share a laugh, perhaps on something they both find amusing, and he fought down the wistful sigh that threatened to slip out his tightly-closed lips.

When was the last time he laughed like that?

Yami couldn't remember.

A couple of days… weeks ago, perhaps?

Not that it mattered, whenever that was. Right now, he was furious at the man before him, who still insisted on keeping his arm seized in a painful grip. Anything that wasn't related to anger was insignificant. And damn it, Yami wanted to be left alone!

"Clearly you don't understand my question," Kaiba replied, whatever sincere words he planned to say quickly becoming harsh, annoying words. He threw the taunt back with the same mocking tone. From the looks of it, the once King of Games was getting riled up. Good job, Seto Kaiba. His smirk inwardly widened.

He wanted to think that he was good at observing people and knowing their routines, their logic. Seto prided himself with the fact that he could decipher what a barely recognizable fidget means and knows that the poor distraught creature doing it was nervous to wit's end. He also knew that a quick twitch of the lips would form into an immediate smirk and apparently, whoever was smirking was pretty confident, too. Most of the time, he'd see the person staring at him with equal ferocity, with the same color of eyes and appearance. Duh, it was his reflection.

Months and years ago, he frequently saw that smirk in his tri-haired, crimson-eyed rival who'd squash his attempts at winning back a title that presently doesn't seem as important anymore.

But as much as he'd want to think and consider himself the best observant person in the world, he was wrong and he knew it. He knew things about Yami Motou through observation, sure, but considering that the other "insert one/two-digit number here"-billion individuals out there acted like Yami, therefore understandable human beings was just stupid. Besides, he could care less what they'd do.

Seto knew things about his rival that maybe most of his idiotic friends wouldn't know. Like the fire those ruby-like eyes ignite into when coaxed into annoyance and fury, or how they'd light up like the brightest red fireworks in the sky when determined. He knew the Yugi-tachi wouldn't notice _any _of what he noticed. And he wasn't obsessed, he _just knew_.

The knowing, however, made him guilty from time to time.

The knowing made him see that this furious teen before him isn't alright as he's claiming. It's plain ridiculous, and Kaiba understood. (He'd like to think and try, anyway.) The knowing made him follow the fleeing ex-spirit and act because Yami can be a stubborn ass when he wants to. Yami, also, will definitely not accept concern or any similar feeling from anyone, including his hikari.

Unfortunately, Yami as a stubborn ass can be a sullen, self-destructive loner as well. Kaiba can't have that.

"For the last time, let me go," the former monarch threatened, a headache quite obviously beginning. Why he had a headache, he didn't bother answering. Kaiba's smirk was too annoying for him to think about the throbbing pain. When the other didn't give any indication of letting go, Yami scowled finally.

There were instances that he swore he hated Seto Kaiba to the bone. This was one of them.

"And for the last time, I'm telling you _you're not going anywhere_," Seto didn't like where this was going at all. Well, part of it, anyway. A livid Yami was likely harder to convince to see reason. All's been said and done, a saying goes, and Seto believed it true. It'd be futile to attempt appeasing an angered person.

"Fuck off, Kaiba."

Yami remembered why he didn't like being angry at people. Sure, he was annoyed. _Sure_, he could be vengeful and cynical but he couldn't be furious at someone. He didn't want to. Now that he is, he realizes the reasons why.

There were times that he'd try and help the CEO, if said executive needed it. But if in the future, Yami remembers how furious he was at the brunet, how being angry at him made it hell for him just to breathe _normally _and swallow words he was so tempted to shout, he could probably turn a blind eye, turn deaf ears to whatever plight Kaiba is in to. Probably. Less likely, but a possibility. Fine, he wouldn't. That's beside the point, though.

People were already beginning to stare, the self-conscious part of him pointed out. He'd leave had he a choice, actually. So he made a choice. He pulled back (and failed) his arm before taking a swing with his free arm. He didn't think he'd hit the brunet and he was right. Sooner than he had expected, Kaiba had hold of both of his wrists and dragging him slightly up to meet half amused, part exasperated and wholly irritated cobalt eyes.

"Look, if this is about that Lance guy… he was your friend, fine, but—"

Yami cut any attempt to talk to him about Lance off. His eyes widened, though; from the way Kaiba scowled, he didn't seem to have noticed.

"Don't meddle in affairs you have no idea about, Kaiba. Especially in my affairs," he growled and pushed as much as he could just to think that a few distances would be enough to satisfy a No-Kaiba thinking. He couldn't free his hands anyway.

A few distances meant Seto missing a step, his back hitting the sink and dragging Yami with him. It would have been an amusing sight, really, if Yami wasn't busy freeing himself and ignoring the heat radiating from the brunet. The way they were positioned seemed like an awkward, intimate embrace. Yami shivered involuntarily. Then the guilt came crashing in again, along with the need to get away as far as possible.

"_I'm sorry I can't be with you…" _

"Kaiba, damn it, let me go!"

The fact that Kaiba was actually physically stronger than him disabled Yami for a bit. It made him panic a lot more. He didn't know why, only that this close, and with this person of all the people in the world spelled uncomfortable, dangerous and wrong. Stupid, too.

Get away. Just have to get away right—

"Yami?"

"Nii-sama?"

In an instant, Yami stopped struggling while Seto let him go. For once, they agreed on something as both of them stifled their shocked responses and stepped away from each other. It was comical, come to think of it, but also disturbing that they could have been mistaken as close when they're just fighting over a small matter.

"We have to go, aibou," Yami replied, keeping his eyes off the brunet, whose grip still ghosted over his wrists. "I have a report to finish."

"Mokuba, we're leaving," Seto said almost at the same time, eyes falling on wide, curious grey eyes that belonged to his brother. Mokuba had questions. He, however, didn't make it his life's goal to avoid his rival. Seto turned to Yami, ignoring the way the other immediately looked away, and half-sincerely, wholly-seriously said, "This isn't over."

And then they were gone, Kaibas leaving like they had the right to just barge in, make some mess and leave without thinking about the damage they've apparently inflicted. Not that it mattered. Yami and Yugi were leaving, too.

Yami paused, though, sneaking one last glance at the sink and inwardly, breathlessly, he wondered, 'What the hell just happened?'

XXX

Yugi snuck glances at his too quiet dark. The entire trip to his hotel was silent, dull. Couple that with what's going on lately and Yami's stubborn insistence that he's perfectly fine, don't worry, it was a miracle the normally sweet, amethyst-eyed Motou hasn't done something stupid just to get his answer. It didn't help that he had to find out what's been bothering his dark himself and that Yami closed him off the moment he appeared in the ex-monarch's dorm room.

"Call me when you get back to your dorm, okay?" he said after bidding the other goodnight. Yami nodded to pacify him, gave him a hug and left as quick as he entered the room.

It would be amusing, Yami's sudden, quiet obedience, had the circumstances been different. But instead of the steady, lighthearted warmth he'd feel when he's up to laughing, Yugi felt desperate and awkward. Like he's barge into someone else's life and that he didn't have _any _right to meddle with whatever affairs the person has.

Then again, he knew that was wrong because Yami wasn't going to take care of himself. Not right now, and Yugi's seen enough of Yami self-destruct before (after receiving his memories back and sulking that he couldn't protect his aibou from Dartz). He felt bad that Lance died. He hasn't confirmed it yet but Yugi wasn't stupid. And he had to give the former pharaoh time and space to grieve—but not at the risk of his health and sanity.

Yugi flipped the phonebook open and looked for the name of the place Kaiba was staying. Mokuba told him more than enough of what he needed earlier; that nii-sama's taking Management in the uni even though he doesn't need it, that nii-sama told him that he saw Yami in Sociology class the day before, etc. He found himself laughing at some of the stuff the younger Kaiba told him, and grimacing at how similar Seto's and Yami's study habits actually were.

Yugi was guilty of a lot of things; such as dragging his sleep-deprived darker half to bed to sleep instead of studying for an exam he'd definitely ace without studying—after all, a pharaoh, flunk an Ancient Egypt quiz?—and hiding all the caffeinated beverages in the house because he thought Yami, the top-of-his-class-self-destructive-caffeine-dependent high school student, had had enough of coffee.

He was, however, guiltier of calling so late at night and asking for Mokuba's help. Or advice. Whatever.

It wasn't Mokuba who answered, though.

He glanced at the clock unconsciously. **10:54 p.m. **Oh, _hell_. What was he going to say?

"H-hi, Seto," Yugi stumbled over his words. "Is Mokuba still awake?"

He could sense the brunet scowl from where he stayed. Kaiba was also close to slamming the phone on him, or flaying him _verbally _for even calling and disturbing him. Not that Seto'd do that, really, because the brunet was actually courteous enough to ignore people he's annoyed with. Yugi guessed the CEO wasn't as annoyed with him as he thought.

"If this is about earlier, tell Yami that I'm not apologizing. And Mokuba's asleep since 9 o'clock," Seto Kaiba answered. "Anything else, Yugi?"

"Uhh… that's all. Sorry for disturbing you," Yugi apologized, conceding that fine, he was wrong about this particular option. "Good night."

"Yugi, hey," the brunet called back.

"Yes?"

"What's going on with Yami?"

"I honestly don't know, Kaiba."

"Oh. Good night."

There was a click and then the conversation was done. He had to admit, it was strange for Kaiba to ask about that. Last time they checked, Seto didn't like to associate with anything related to Yami. Yugi could be wrong, though, especially with Kaiba mustering enough interest to ask about what his dark is dealing with currently.

He yawned unconsciously, sighing after admitting that at the moment sleep was an issue more pressing. He's been exhausted for the past two days worrying over Yami—not that it's ever really an excuse, just a fact—and he wouldn't be much of a help if he's too damn sleepy to control his anger and frustration.

It would only be in the early hours of the morning that Yugi would realize Yami didn't call long enough to leave a message in his voice mall. One miss call, his phone would say. But the morn was still quite far away.

XXX

For the next few days after Lance's death, Daniel Grey felt the whole world crumbling underneath his feet. Sometimes, he'd think that he didn't have the right to feel as bas as Yami, who still feigned sleep when Daniel caught him still awake—albeit forcibly—at 4 a.m. But eventually, he gave in to the idea because the emotion was true and the fact that he's lost his best friend was too raw to scrub away.

He stopped trusting a majority of people when he was 9 years old. Uncle Tim was a pedophile, but it was a family secret. Wouldn't want anyone to know the Greys had a black sheep who deserved a one-way trip to hell. Bryan was his cousin from Uncle Tim, and Daniel always felt bad for the other boy whenever they were forced to witness things they shouldn't ever dream of witnessing at quite a tender age. Daniel told his dad, of course, but dad loved his brother too much. Mom hadn't been much of a help. She's always been a submissive pacifist, he thought bitterly.

Daniel stopped trusting them. Two years later, on the eve of his 11th birthday, one of the kids Uncle Tim had been hitting on told his dad. Quite naturally, the boy's dad didn't like it one bit and decided to burn the entire house down. (No one gets away with touching my son, the dad angrily exclaimed.) Mom and Dad and Uncle Tim were locked inside the house as the fire crept up, ate through the wood and danced higher, bigger because of how many liters of gasoline that's been spilled. Bryan and Daniel were staying at a friend's house.

People began lying to them ever since. Bryan disappeared soon after to who-knows-where, running after who-knows-what. Daniel stopped looking for him, too hurt by the betrayal—Dude, you're the only family I have and you leave me?—and moved on.

Daniel knew he has trust issues. Hell, he'd freak out if he realized he doesn't have any. Kids just don't get through traumatic events and whatnot in their lives without part of their sanities slipping away. But the moment he saw Yami Motou, all cocky and prepared to handle the ups and downs, benefits and challenges of college, raise a hand and question their professor's statement, he didn't even think twice that this was one person he'd like. Plus, he's his dorm mate, too.

And the thing about liking a person, treating him as an almost-sibling, like Lance, is that you notice things about him and realize bloody hell, he's going to kill himself if he doesn't stop.

Lance left a hole in Daniel's bleak, getting interesting life. But the damage was worse on Yami, who had to suffer Anastasia's misplaced wrath. And Daniel watched as Yami stopped sleeping since he had that dream/nightmare/whatever that made him call Yugi. He watched in the sidelines as the guy marched through every one of his classes blankly, surprisingly prepared in terms of quizzes and reports, and relied to get through each day on a routine that quite honestly _sucked_. All study, no play made Jack a dully boy.

It all happened a week ago. Time flew by so fast. They had buried Lance two days ago, as per Anastasia's wish, and Yami, for the most part of the burial kept to himself by Daniel's side. Both of them couldn't ignore the hateful glare Anastasia has been giving to Yami, though. From then on, things no longer became the same.

A Math professor of his once joked about post-burial for the remaining loved ones. It was a few days after the 1st semester began and the joke was totally out of place and too crude for his liking. Not that the professor noticed anyway. According to dear ol' Math professor, had he a choice, he was more afraid of zombies than anything else. Why, he had asked. Because zombies just stare dully at you and go on auto pilot until everything's become a routine to them and then—BAAM, they're dead sooner than you can get a coffin.

Daniel, thinking about it right now and realizing the situation was familiar, still didn't like the joke one bit. He stared at the empty bed across his and then at the figure at the study table, buried by books. He was really, really concerned with Yami.

"Hey, dude, your next class isn't until 1:30, right? How about we get some brunch?" Daniel asked, aware that the only thing Yami had the entire morning was a cup of coffee and a protein bar.

As expected, Yami shook his head and indicated the books he was carrying. "I have to study," he reasoned.

"You sure? I'm treating."

Yami nodded, a small smile gracing his face.

"I'm fine. Go ahead," he replied.

Yami's last class was World Literature. They were classmates again in that class and when they saw each other, Daniel swore silently. Yami looked like hell, frankly put, with bags visible under his eyes and his complexion far paler than healthy. He looked smaller than he actually was in that pale blue sweater and the books he were carrying seemed to bear more weight than him.

"Yami—"

"Daniel, I'm _fine_. Let it go." Yami cut him off, opening the door for the both of them. Their seats were the only ones left vacated. The monotonous, completely emotionless voice nailed Daniel to the ground he was standing on, gaping awkwardly at his dorm mate. Not only was Yami lying about his current condition, he was also getting worse by the minute. What has he been doing to himself?

"Mr. Motou, Mr. Grey, I don't suppose you have intentions of skipping my class?" the professor's voice rang out, sliding through their (one-sided) conversation like a sharp knife. Yami shook his head as a response, meeting the challenge in the professor's eyes unenthusiastically.

"No, sir," he replied and went to his seat.

For the remaining 90 minutes, Daniel wondered if any of his other classmates noticed that Yami wasn't participating as he normally would. World Literature was one of his Yami's favorite classes. His professor singled him out sometimes, knowing he had the answer or that he had a question. It was a clear indication that someone in his class is at least _interested _in what he's teaching. But for the past days, for the past lectures, the class was a punishment.

Yami stared at the blackboard most of the time, ignoring the stares, if there were, and half-heartedly answered the professor's questions _only _when no one was raising his hand anymore.

The professor had looked relieved at first. Then he got irritated and started giving essays for them to work on that Yami always, always aced. But Yami still didn't recite. It was like a promise somehow, a vow he wouldn't want to break.

And it scared Daniel, who knew he had to do something and sighed when he couldn't because he didn't know what.

After class that day, Yami excused himself and said he needed to do something before going back to his room. Okay, Daniel finally agreed and went back alone. He didn't know that Yami had forgotten something and had gone to their room to get it, and met Anastasia quite unfortunately on his way out.

—He didn't know until he heard them, that is.

"You."

"Anastasia, how are you?"

"You were at my brother's burial," Anastasia said matter-of-factly. "Why?"

"To pay my respects; I'm not a villain here who wanted your brother dead, Anastasia," Yami replied dully, tiredly. "I cared for Lance and you have to acknowledge that."

"You know that I won't," Anastasia spat. "You let him die. You could have helped him _if you cared_. But no, you didn't. He was the only person I have in the world, Yami."

Anastasia, with his long, curly black hair that stayed neatly in a ponytail and wide, expressive eyes, was close to tears. Yami felt all the more horrible and opened his mouth to speak.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't _apologize_. It's too late!" Lance's sister erupted and pushed Yami away, hard enough for the former monarch to hit the wall. Then Anastasia bit out, "I hate you."

"That's enough," Daniel interrupted and dragged Anastasia away. "Give him a break! You're not the only person who's mourning here. We were close to him, too."

Anastasia shook her head and ran away.

The silence stretched between them and for minutes, in the security of their dorm room, neither had begun to talk. Daniel wanted to; he didn't know what to talk about. They'd been walking on a tightrope lately and it was so easy to discuss something that would only make Yami keep more to himself. So Daniel sat on his bed and waited for someone to break the ice.

"She's right, you know," Yami whispered, almost inaudibly.

"What?"

Yami raised his eyes, met Daniel's own for a while before he looked away. Guilt, grief, misery rolled in five simple words:

"I should have cared enough."

Daniel didn't have an answer to that.

TBC…


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: While I'm waiting for my classmate to return my USB that contains all my unfinished files—including the next chapter for Blood is Red, I guess I'll have to work on this first. In Explanation would have been nice to update, too, but the chapter is, again, in my flashdisk. Sheesh. **

**Oh, and this one's going to be shorter than the 4****th**** chapter. I need to develop the relationship between Seto and Yami. Those two… ::shakes head:: **

**Mmhm. I updated on my birthday. I'm maturing! How strange. Haha. **

**Drop a review! **

* * *

Chapter 5: Blood on Broken Glass

_I will wait until the end _

_When the pendulum will swing back_

_To the darker side of our hearts bleeding _

- Good Charlotte, Ghost of You

XXX

It was easy.

In the future, he'd consider saying it was slightly relieving—until Yami dropped to the ground as his fist made impact with the other's jaw. Daniel didn't like the fact that Yami fell instantly, nor that the punch wasn't even as strong as he intended to be. Someone badly needed the rest, in the whole sense of the word.

"You're an idiot," Daniel muttered and dragged Yami up, feeling bad that he couldn't even control himself. Then again, Yami needed to realize that he _had _to quit feeling so damn guilty about these things. He wasn't being fair to himself; why couldn't he see that? The former pharaoh's eyes widened, dull red eyes opened and seeking his gaze. It was very uncomfortable. But Daniel was adamant with not apologizing. Sometimes, you need to get hurt to wake up.

Yami nodded curtly then walked inside, pulling the door open and pausing upon hearing it shut. Daniel stood watching at the other side.

He didn't understand a lot of things. For someone who's technically been in the world for three millennia, that was unsettling. Death was normal, was part of life… and yet, no matter how 'ready' a person is, he always ends up grieving so much that just thinking about the space that the dead left hurt. A 3000-year old spirit would have witnessed enough deaths in such span of time to be accustomed to it, though. That should be the case, right?

Maybe. But that condition certainly did not work for him.

Maybe this affected him more because this was more personal, more close to home, so to speak.

"_If you cared enough, you would have protected him!" _

Yami knocked on the glass of water on his study desk, watched as the water quickly swarmed over the pieces of paper nearby. He only threw a rag on the spill when it was starting to drip onto the floor. Floors are slippery when wet; therefore, more accident-prone. Best avoid that.

He cared about Lance. He really did. Anastasia was probably grieving her brother's death—only family she had left, after all—but this… Yami did what he could, didn't he? He tried to save Lance but Lance just couldn't be saved. Not with such an injury and even a former pharaoh, who became the key to the Shadow Realm, could not defy the laws of nature—in this case, death. People die.

Keep telling yourself that. You might actually believe it.

And what if he did? What if Yami believed that he wasn't such a cruel person? He made some mistakes in his life; and it's _completely natural_. He wasn't some god. Yet it doesn't change anything. It doesn't change the fact that Lance was six feet under. There's still some unfilled space, a black hole that's threatening to eat him. What's odd, though, was that it was perfectly okay. In a morbid sense of way, Yami thought he was even welcoming the emptiness that he felt.

He heard a knock.

"Yami, open up!"

The duelist-turned-college student sighed. It wasn't Daniel, thankfully. Not that he disliked the guy but seriously, he needed to have some time alone. He needed space, which unfortunately was something Daniel refused to give at the moment. Otherwise, Daniel wouldn't have insisted on dragging him to places he wasn't even in the mood to go to. Yami guessed he was being inconsiderate; his dorm mate was only trying to help but no, not this time.

"Go away!" He shouted, crawling under the covers of his bed and blocking the noise of the insistent knocking with a pillow over his head. How childish; Yami wouldn't have it any other way.

A few minutes later, the former spirit heard the door of the room next to his open, the resident yelling at Kaiba to let people study in peace. That didn't shut up the abnormally stubborn, sharp-tongued brunet, though. The poor fellow got a vicious 'fuck off!' instead.

"I swear to God, Yami, if you don't open up, I'll pick the lock and drag you out!"

Actually, there was more to it than picking the lock, the tri-haired student realized. The only thing that's blocking him from Kaiba was the door. Daniel wouldn't obviously interfere since he wasn't here and he had the same opinion as the brunet's. Yugi was not here—and Yami really should stop counting on people to save him, he thought bitterly as an image of a bloodied Lance cross his mind. Would it be believable to say that for some unknown and completely messed up reason, he was afraid of the CEO?

He considered waiting on Seto to act on his threat. But Yami changed his mind, refusing to earn the ire of his neighbors because _someone _didn't understand the concept of leaving people alone.

"What in the world can you possibly want from me this time, Seto Kaiba?" Yami greeted angrily, yanking the door open and glaring at the initially surprised then apathetic teen before him. He hated times like these. Most especially, he hated Seto Kaiba's interference. God, he hated it! "Can't you just leave me the fucking hell alone even for a couple of days? Is that too much to ask?"

Yami paused and dragged his ex-rival inside. It was best to prevent having angered neighbors because of this noise. He saw the other cross his arms then felt a calculating gaze land on him. The pharaoh didn't know whether he was supposed to be insulted or annoyed.

"When's the last time you sleep, Yami?" Seto asked abruptly, cutting the rant the other was most likely going to give. Sleep was pretty hard to get these days, what with take-home exams to submit the next day and minimum of 5-pages reports to write. But the CEO was sure school wasn't the cause of the bags under Yami's eyes, nor Yami's blank and wearied look.

"Last night."

"Sure, and I'm the _Queen _of England. Don't lie to me," Seto retorted dryly. "Believe me; I know you haven't been sleeping. Why can't you understand that I'm just trying to—"

"What, Kaiba? Help me?" Yami snapped, emitting a sarcastic laugh from his chapped lips. "I don't need anyone's help. I'm fine."

"Yes, you are. That's why you're paranoid. That's why you let that girl lash out on you as if you're the Devil himself. When have you allowed other people to walk on you like that?"

So Seto Kaiba saw that pretty extraordinary display of anger, huh? Who cares? Yami, for one, refused to give it much importance. People have the tendency to exaggerate but in every exaggeration, there remained some semblance of truth. The same thing applied to what Anastasia told him. Okay, he didn't directly kill his boyfriend. Of course, he wouldn't. But for someone who prided himself for protecting the people he loves the fact that his boyfriend _just died_ wasn't easy to stomach. Especially when on the night of the incident, he was beside said boyfriend.

Guilt had a funny way of leading people on and kicking them when they're down. Well, fate does that too… but Yami didn't have a problem with _that _Lady at the moment. On another ridiculous note, was Guilt even a lady?

"I appreciate the concern and all, thank you. It's not your problem, though, and I will very much _appreciate _it if you back off, Kaiba," he tried diplomatically. Seto stared at him, must be considering whether to knock some sense into his thick skull or just leave as instructed. Yami was willing to bet on the former.

"Trust me, I'm okay."

"If you appreciate my concern, then you'll tell me why you're letting Anastasia treat you like some cheap punch bag," the CEO answered; then calmly, "I'm not going to say that I know how you feel because honestly, I don't. I seriously don't. But the least I can do is refute what she said earlier. I may have not seen you and Lance together… but you know that you did all that you could. There's nothing that you could have done, Yami."

Yami shook his head stubbornly and sat on the bed. That was awkward; who would have thought that the brunet would know these things? He meant no disrespect. Seriously, he didn't _ever _consider that this person in front of him, who long ago even attempted to endanger their lives for the sake of a title, would bother disturbing people in a dormitory and then try to talk some sense into him. He didn't completely understand what goes inside Seto's head.

"I got it. You can go now."

Fine, so he was right. Maybe Kaiba was right, too. Sure, he could consider Daniel and Yugi correct. The whole world was right all along. How nice. But guess what?

Lance—is—still—dead.

Doesn't change anything, does it?

"You better be gone by the time I'm done," Yami said angrily, secretly wondering why he was suddenly furious. This always happened when Kaiba's around. He grabbed his towel and even though he didn't have the intention before, he stalked towards the bathroom and locked himself in.

It was 15 minutes of soft, assumed inaudible sobs and wheezes later that Yami finally emerged from the bathroom, steam coming out as the door was opened. He sighed, eyes closed as if the bath had just taken a whole lot of burden off his shoulders. In a way, it felt like that. Then again, that wasn't meant to last. Not when there's a pile of books waiting to be read and reviewed on his desk. There _was _a pile. Yami's eyes slightly widened. Where were the books?

"Haven't we read Le Comte de Monte Cristo in high school? Why do you have it?"

It would have been a comical sight—Yami's eyes wide with a blend of disbelief, irritation and surprise, Seto's own cerulean orbs glittering with precision and smugness while he held the book in one hand. Then Yami's eyes narrowed as he went to Daniel's bed where Kaiba lay and grabbed the neatly plastic wrapped book. "That's none of your business! And didn't I tell you to leave?"

Seto considered it wise to ignore the irked former spirit and decided to pretend reading the first chapter of the next book in hand. Absentmindedly, he began saying, "Lance and I were classmates in Management. I really don't need the subject but it was a requirement. I hated him the least in our class."

"Lance—You—wait, you're studying _here_?"

Well, that made sense. At least Yami now knew why the CEO kept appearing in places that would only be familiar to students of this university. But Lance and Kaiba were classmates?

"Congratulations on figuring it out, Sherlock. Point is, you're not the only one who's feeling pretty fucked-up. If there's anyone to blame, maybe that would be me," Seto continued, ignoring Yami's silent protest. "After all, if I hadn't taken his share of the report, he wouldn't have gone out with you on that night. Nothing would have happened."

It was safe to say that Yami was not only shocked to a standstill but he was also quite bluntly, out of anything to say. His mind raced, remembering that Lance did mention something about a report he had to pass the next day. That his partner had been nice enough to finish the task by himself so Lance could go out with Yami. That—

-- the partner was Seto Kaiba?

"How can you be responsible? You only volunteered to take his share of the report!" was the best answer Yami could voice out.

Seto placed the book down and turned to look at him, a smirk on his face.

"Exactly. How can _you_ be responsible? You only went out with him. Did you know what would happen? No. Even if you did, you'd do your best to stop it from happening. Would you? Yes. Did you? _Yes_."

"I don't care," Yami replied nevertheless.

"Well, I do. A lot."

Yami stopped.

"What?"

Kaiba sighed and stood up, putting the pile of books back. "You feel guilty. Fine, I can't do anything about that. At the end of the day, it's still up to you to feel so downright miserable," then he faced the crimson-eyed teen, "but you know what?"

"What?"

"You _will _move on whether you want to or not because God knows you're going to kill yourself thinking about what you could have done even though you know for yourself there was nothing you could do," Seto simply answered, smiling grimly at the former pharaoh. For the record, that was the only sane smile Yami saw on the brunet's face. It wasn't comforting at all.

He saw the executive-slash-student look at his watch and heard the other mutter a curse. "I have to go. Got class. But I'm serious with what I just said," Seto told him before he headed for the door…

… and stopped.

"By the way, you really have to learn to deal with your issues without crying your heart out in the bathroom. The walls are thin."

Smirking, Kaiba stepped out and shut the door.

By the study desk, Yami watched and when he had gathered enough wits to react negatively, the brunet was no longer there. He scowled and angrily knocked the pile of books off the desk.

TBC…


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Okay, so according to those who reviewed Blood is Red, they'd like to see Photo Effect updated first. Sorry for the late update, anyway. I'm tempted to use school as an excuse but that's just lame. I mean, seriously, school's been hell but it's not too much of a nightmare. Heck, I'm still breathing, aren't I? Christmas break was useless, with family reunions to go to and preparations to make. I think I've never been so tired in my whole life. **

**So much have happened, I guess. And I'm really sorry for the late update. Here it is, anyway. Drop a review and tell me what you think. Or else I won't write anymore! **

**Just kidding. ::gets hit with a pillow:: Hey! **

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**Chapter 6: Snapshots to Avoid **

_Hold on to me, never let me go._

-Far Away, Nickelback

XXX

On those rare occasions that Yami is actually alone in the library, aside from the library clerk, completely hidden from penetrating, curious stares and invulnerable to the hushed whispers about _him_, he thinks about what he's done for the past days. After Lance—Yami choked—_died_, his life has been an unbreakable routine dependent on cups and cups of caffeine and loads of schoolwork with unreasonable deadlines. It's all about how many he could do in a limited time span, withholding all other opportunities to mellow down and _think_.

Thinking is the last thing he's got in his mind right now.

It doesn't surprise him that he's spent two hours in here, supposedly reading up for his next class. What does surprise him is the fact that today marks the second week after Kaiba forced his way into Yami's life once again, and decided his day shouldn't end without interfering with Yami's private matters. He feels he should be relieved; heck, he should be happy the brunet decided to leave him alone. But there are too many questions—and they were _classmates_?

"_Don't you have a report to finish?" Yami wondered, confusion warring his bright, red eyes. Lance grinned triumphantly, all dimples and warm hazels glimmering under the streetlight. There's a faint blush on Lance's cheeks and his breath fogs between them. The former pharaoh shook his head, hugging his book bag tighter; it's been really cold these past days…_

"_A classmate of mine volunteered to do everything." _

"_Oh?" Yami's lips curved into a smirk, mischievous and curious and everything in between. Most of all, it was just pure gladness. His voice was playful when he replied, "I should thank him." _

_Lance raised an eyebrow, his own lips turning into a smile of his own before he wraps an arm around his boyfriend's waist and pulls Yami towards him. A few inches more and they would have been dragged into a kiss. Yami's eyes were half-lidded, his eyes as bright as Lance's but also a shade darker. _

"_Shall we?" Lance breathed over Yami's lips, loving the way the lithe teen felt in his arms. He felt Yami nod before stealing a quick kiss as he rose on tiptoes and dragged his boyfriend down._

_Then Yami paused, just past a block. Lance had thought it better to just walk and spend more time with each other—"I'm romantic that way"—so they also passed the parked car he owned. He looked at Yami, wondered what was wrong. Did he need to do something? Because Lance understood that Yami was downright serious with having high grades at the end of the semester as he was serious with his relationship with Lance. _

"_Do you—?" _

"_No, no. It's just that…" he waited, concerned as he realized Yami was faltering, trying to hide something as he nibbled nervously on his bottom lip. Lance often thought it an endearing sight (it _**is **_right now) but it was obvious Yami wanted to say something important. "… I don't know, forget it." _

"_What's wrong?" _

_Yami sighed and looked up, guided by Lance's gloved fingers. _

"_I feel that something'll go wrong tonight and it's a heavy feeling I can't shake. Forget it, okay? I'm being stupid. It must be—"_

_Lance hushed him with a gentle kiss, palming his face tenderly in two hands and sealing his lips with his boyfriend's own. When they broke apart, both of them were flushed and Lance looked at him understandingly. "It's fine, Yami. Let's… don't worry, okay?" _

_Another sigh, conceding, relieved, trusting… _

"_Okay."_

Yami's eyes snapped open, realizing he had just fallen asleep in the library. What time is it? He felt a tap on his shoulder, looked up to see the library clerk—Samantha—worriedly looking at him, asking him if he were okay. Yami grins sheepishly and gathers his things, saying he has to go or he'll be late.

He knows it isn't true—it's only quarter past 5 p.m. and the sky is darkening, sure, but his last class doesn't start in more than thirty minutes. Where would he stay?

"Can I… you just look like you need a cup of coffee," Samantha blushes. She's endearing enough and Yami begins to think he's going to treat her like a sister now because no one can be endearing enough to recommend a good coffee shop without being treated nicely forever in the future. "They have the best coffee in the world."

Yami smiles, hopes to God Samantha won't notice how fake it is, and slings his bag over his shoulder. "Thanks. I appreciate it a lot."

And he leaves Samantha there, heading for the shop with a headache.

XXX

"Seriously, man, you really should sleep."

Daniel sighed wearily, running his right hand through his hair. His classmate looked at him worriedly, holding a cup of coffee as if waiting for it to be taken away from him. And Daniel, who supposed was having quite a hard time identifying which one was the real classmate and which one was a figment of his imagination, wondered if he really should take up the offer.

"I'm fine. I just need some caffeine, that's all."

"Yeah, right," his classmate replied, quieting after the door opened to reveal a worse for wear Yami Motou. Daniel and Yami rarely shared a class but that was during their first semester, which ended a month ago. Now, after three weeks of semester break, both of them had made sure to take at least _one _class together. Preferably their last so they could both go into their dorm room at the same time.

Worse for wear Yami nearly tripped, his eyes close to shutting and bags clearly under his crimson-red eyes. Apparently, the former pharaoh hasn't been getting any sleep, either. The thought made Daniel frown. This was actually their third day of class—and for the record, the past two nights have been spent wondering what time Yami will come home from the library.

Daniel sighed.

He knew enough about the other's classes. Yami's classes begin at 7:30 on Tuesdays, with Individual Sports under some TBA professor, and he only had one break—12-1:30. That was most likely intended for lunch. Often, on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, he'll go to his General Chemistry class and it ends at 8 p.m. In short, except for Wednesdays and Fridays, Yami should be in his room at 9 o'clock because he never really liked going out. Well, that was what Daniel thought.

And lately, Yami has been coming home at 3 in the morning. Daniel knew because he stayed up late enough to catch the former pharaoh silently open the door, sigh tiredly, drop his things on his study desk and head for bed. Yami's desk was becoming a pile of clutter recently.

"You okay, Daniel?" It was Yami's turn to ask, earning a subtle—if that were any possible—from his dorm mate. The blonde shook his head and gestured the question back at him. "Are _you_?"

Yami laughed this time, a completely different laugh compared to what Daniel has been hearing before any of this ever happened. Everything about the former pharaoh seemed shallow now. Heck, his laughter came out as forced (and Daniel didn't need to know Yami well enough to realize the difference). But he was tired all of a sudden, of Yami deliberately ignoring him and pretending he was okay. And he was tired of feeling that maybe he had unconsciously borne the responsibility of looking after Lance's boyfriend.

It made him guilty because Yami's his friend, too, but he can't keep pushing when all Yami ever does is pushing him back. It made all his efforts head towards an immovable, invisible force—a wall, and to sum it all up, Daniel guessed he's missing his best friend quite a fucking lot right now.

"Daniel, I—"

Daniel sighed, cutting Yami's apology short. "Just… Yami, take care of yourself, will you? I can't always annoy you about your sleeping habits. You're self-destructing, man."

"I know."

It was an apology as it was an admission; and Daniel was too surprised to come up with a bitter _"I know." _Not that it mattered, really, because Yami had suddenly shifted and faced the blackboard just in time for the professor to come in with a pile of test papers.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Surprise quiz, prepare your pens."

The groans resonated loudly in the classroom as Yami and Lance decided to avoid everyone—including each other.

XXX

"_All freshmen students are required to take the Guidance exam this coming Saturday at the Little Theatre, 8 a.m…." _

College and high school are two almost completely different institutions. Seto knows this for sure. While high school is all about "molding students for life" and what-not, detention and failing marks as mediums of discipline; college is all about freedom and responsibility. It's like that big gulp of air a man breathes in after being under water for so long. All about relief and meeting new people, getting new experiences and dealing with problems that haven't occurred before. It's all about _new _and big and challenge.

Sometimes, Seto thinks he's been through this before. The business world, while larger and far more risky, is like a university. It's not hard to adjust and get used to these things.

On his first day of class for Management 101 (which he had been so sure he would ace without trouble), the last row was unoccupied. He had entered the classroom, stared at the group of people in front, rolled his eyes and went straight for the farthest seats. Once he had 'settled in', so to speak, everyone else decided to avoid the other seats beside his like a plague. That had pleased Seto the most. Fine, not everyone…

"_Hey, this seat isn't taken, is it?" _

His "name's Lance. So, is it?"

"_Kaiba."_

"_Right, the CEO. So… what're you doing in uni? I heard you didn't have to." _

Seto isn't much of a conversationalist; he's never been one. But he did know how to distinguish the people, who simply made small talk because they were absurdly bored, from those who seriously wanted to know. He figured, at that moment while the guy looked at him and waited for answer, that he might as well entertain him long enough to send him away. How much can one guy do, anyway?

"_I guess we're partners, huh?" _

And it started there, with a project he's supposed to work with Lance. It was okay, he guessed, because the guy kept on talking about someone he's seeing. Frankly, Seto hadn't cared. It's none of his business. But from time to time, conversations become interesting and he finds himself listening even though he practically vowed not to. It starts with 'he's seriously addicted to Egypt' and Seto kinda thought nobody can be as addicted to Egypt as Yami, his former rival.

"_I'm planning on asking him out tonight," Lance said proudly, ignoring the glares he's been receiving from the people in front. As far as he was concerned, class hasn't started yet so he _will _talk when he wants to. And about something that he actually finds interesting, instead of Management 101 notes. Geez. _

"_Then do so, what do I care?" is Kaiba's reply, talkative as ever. _

"_Well… he's in the library," as if that was reason enough to not go out. But hey, it's the guy's wish. Not that Seto saw it particularly interesting. Really. _Honestly_. _

"_So?" _

"_He likes to stay in the History section. But he's not a History major. Weird, isn't it? I guess that's why I like him so much," Lance answered, his tone hinting his very intention to respect the guy's decision to read more books. Seto thought the guy was a Library Science major with all his fanaticism with books and libraries. _

"_What is he majoring in?" _

"_International Studies." _

"_Ah." _

"_Surprising, huh?"_

"_Whatever. Can't we work on the project now? I hate wasting time."_

"_Oh, fine. You practically finished three quarters of it already. That's not fair!" _

"_In my book, it is. So shut up and help me." _

When they meet the next day, Lance had grinned at him, slapped him in the back and smiled throughout the class. Even the professor had found that peculiar. But Lance had always been strange to Seto, so it wasn't much of a difference.

"_He agreed, by the way," Lance greeted him once the professor dismissed them. _

_Seto rolled his eyes and started to walk away. "Aren't you even going to ask his name? I need your support here, you know." _

_The brunet stopped, glared at him for a couple of seconds before sighing in exasperation. "I can't believe I'm doing this. What's his name?" _

"_Yami Motou." _

_He remembered his eyes widening, lips thinning into a scowl before turning around. "That's good, Lance." _

_Holy hell. _

Seto cursed his luck—metaphorically speaking—as he stalked towards his General Chemistry class. Fresh from a business trip in LA, it was safe to say that the brunet had a craving for caffeine right now… and was not in the mood to be blocked by the building's security guard, demanded to present an I.D. and be cleared in ten fucking long minutes. He needed sleep but he had missed the past Gen. Chem classes already.

He was just in time to catch the group of students in front frantically search their bags for their pens and scientific calculators before he entered, yanking the door open to catch the professor's attention.

"Yes?" The professor asked, completely unfazed by the 'special' entrance. Kaiba smirked, inwardly liking the professor. He was a bastard but he knew a person who demanded and deserved respect when he saw one.

"This is Gen. Chem, right?"

"Ah, you must be Seto Kaiba," the professor, a stern 40-something lady with sharp, rectangle glasses and perfectly done hair, observed. "Take a seat. We're having an exam today," she said with a smile.

The brunet grunted and instantly scanned for the most convenient unoccupied seat. _Convenient_, he thought wryly as he caught Yami's wide, suspicious gaze and the apparently empty chair beside him. Daniel sat to the former pharaoh's left. Oh, good.

"Where were you this week?" Yami asked casually, pretending he's listening to the professor but really isn't.

"Why? You missed me?" Seto retorted, smug when he saw the frown on Yami's face. Speaking of—does the guy know the meaning of sleep? Does he even know _how _to sleep?

"Why should I? I'm just saying, you missed quite a lot this week. And wasted a lot of time," the former pharaoh explained, defensive in his answer. The brunet thought it was amusing but that's not the point here. Why isn't anyone pointing out how self-destructive Yami is becoming?

"That's really flattering, you concerned with my grades. I'm okay, _really_. I think I can understand the," Kaiba paused to look at the course syllabus, "three lessons we've had."

Yami raised an eyebrow, noticing the sarcasm before turning to the professor who's been giving them both awkward stares since the CEO entered. Seto didn't want it to end that way, though, so he leaned in and whispered in Yami's ear:

"You look like hell. I think you should know that."

He didn't feel satisfied or amused at all when Yami stiffened and cursed afterwards. Who would?

XXX

The air was cool and the sky was dark; it was like any other night. Yami spent these nights awake, alone in the patio of his room. It didn't seem to matter that he's close to freezing or that dawn would break in a couple of hours. Tomorrow didn't seem to be important, and he's miles and miles away anyway. Mentally, that is.

The air is cool and it reminds him of how much fun he have had not so long ago, when Lance was still alive and inviting him to simple places he thought he'd never enjoy. See, Yami was a workaholic--still is, he wants to think-- and it's really bothersome to be dragged to places and do nothing. Just walk and talk about random things, things that weren't even connected to academics. Apparently, Lance thought he needed a life and therefore, walks in the park and stargazing became a normal thing for them.

But they never expected to be parted, you know? They never even thought that maybe this was just a 'college' thing, a form of experimentation. Far too good to be true, but they didn't want to be realistic. Just hit it on after Lance managed to break through Yami's defenses. And well... they didn't count on being attacked and Lance dying. They really, seriously didn't.

Which makes the entire scenario all that difficult to bear, Yami thought. He's been to the library a couple of hours ago, hiding between the shelves of the History section. Nobody bothers to go to that particular section anyway. And he's spent so much time in there now that he's basically close to finishing all the history books about Egypt that he could find. Lance thought his obsession with Egypt was endearing and adorable--much to Yami's consternation-- but he didn't know Yami was a pharaoh. That was way too freaky, Yami guessed. So he never told; and Lance never asked.

And that makes things slightly better, right. Hah. Right. Because they shouldn't keep secrets from each other, but Yami had ones that he didn't want to tell. He would have given in, of course, if Lance had insisited, had pursued him for it. But Lance didn't, and Yami thought that time that he liked his boyfriend for that.

Now, though...

Would Lance even be here if he had insisted? Would they break up because it's just too weird to have an ex-pharaoh, who still dreams of Ancient Egypt and all its horrors (because Yami thinks he's lost all that's nice about his old life), as a boyfriend? Yami didn't know; heck, didn't even want to think about it. But his brain had other ideas. And he's not going to sleep tonight.

When was the last time he slept?

He couldn't remember.

Had Kaiba been here, he'd have forced his ex-rival to sleep. The brunet's been interfering since they met in the mall. It's frustrating. And yes, it was a surprise to see that after a two week-long absence from Yami's life--one week of peace and solidarity-- Kaiba's back. As his classmate for his last class. To make things worse, he intends to sit beside Yami, who's having enough problems with Daniel.

"_You look like hell. I think you should know that."_

Damn it, did Kaiba think he didn't know?

One of these days, Yami knew he would crack. He needed to go away even for a couple of days, just to... you know, forget. Because it's not easy to forget that Lance died when couple of hours before, he was alright. 'Peachy', Lance had said 22 hours before he gasped his last breath.

Peachy, huh?

And Yami realized, weeks aren't enough. He hasn't moved on yet because the pain's still there. Lingers like an old wound, opening when you don't want it to, when you accidentally hit it.

That just sucks. Royally.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Uh, hi, guys. I'm not dead yet. ::nervous laughter:: Anyway, I just want to say that thank you for sticking up with me. I'm almost done with only a couple of chapters left. It isn't going to be much on the romantic relationship—well, so far, I don't think so—but more on the development of their relationship so I think it's a change from what I usually do. Regardless, I hope you're still interested. I'm so sorry, again, for the delay in the posting of chapter. I can't say how sorry I am for not posting this sooner but if it's any consolation, I made this a bit longer. **

**Thanks. Would you mind dropping a review after reading this, by the way?**

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**Chapter 7: Masquerading Silhouettes **

_And I don't want the world to see me _

_Coz' I don't think that they'd understand_

_When everything's made to be broken_

_I just want you to know who I am_

- Iris, Goo Goo Dolls

XXX

Daniel isn't a fool to think that the rift between him and Yami wouldn't lead to something messy. While they haven't been hostile with each other, each of them is prone to breaking down. In a short span of time, they've been short-tempered, anti-social and basically unnervingly quiet that everyone who knows them is already asking about them. He's learned not to bother his roommate, which he guesses is a good thing because at least he doesn't have to explain his own actions to Yami, but that still doesn't change the fact that he is worried.

See, he wouldn't worry exceedingly much if Yami showed signs of being back to his normal, nerdy self. He wouldn't have to fight the urge to just force the guy to live like normal, functioning human beings do. But the problem is, Yami hasn't been talking to anyone, as far as Daniel's heard anyway, and hasn't been eating more than an apple a day. Daniel knows that academic-wise, his roommate hasn't changed, submitting essays and term papers in abundance. The professors know something is up, though, because apparently, Yami Motou hasn't seen the university's councilor just yet. Which, after surviving an attack and having someone close to him die, he should really do.

But Yami is a stubborn guy, Daniel knows that for sure.

And Daniel… he always has a problem with shutting up.

"Dude, that's your 4th cup of coffee tonight!"

Yami sighs; the way he usually does when he's exasperated at someone. He turns to look at Daniel, who's watching him from his bed. Daniel has his arms crossed, an annoyed, worried look on his face and a bed with scattered school materials on it behind him. They've just arranged the room again, with the study desks as far away from their beds as possible. It's still a considerably short distance, of course, but there's only much one can do in a dorm room. Daniel is looking pointedly at his coffee.

"I need to finish my paper."

"Bull. You submitted your last yesterday. You said so yourself," Daniel quips. He stalks to Yami's desk fast enough to catch what Yami is doing. His eyes widens and he gasps.

"You're pulling yourself out?" Daniel asks louder than he intends to. He sees his friend's shoulders slump dejectedly and his head turn to the side, apparently to avoid his gaze. Yami nods. "Are you _insane_?! You just got yourself a scholarship for next term!"

Granted that the next term wouldn't be staring in four months, a scholarship is still a scholarship and Yami would be an idiot to drop it, Daniel thinks. Then again, that's a petty rationalization even from Daniel. He doesn't want Yami to go, not at the state he is in. No, he didn't miss the blank, dull look on Yami's eyes a few seconds ago. Which he, mind you, really despise seeing because he's doing his best to cheer the guy up here. This is how he repays him?

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to be looked after," Yami answers hotly.

Daniel blushes, cursing his slip of tongue.

"It's not that!"

"I get it, okay? You feel obliged because Lance's your best friend. He probably asked you to look after me or something but damn it, I don't need protecting!" Yami replies. He stands up and heads to his bed before facing his roommate. "No one's going to hurt me anymore. I'm safe. So if that's the only reason you're here, I suggest you cut it out, Daniel."

Daniel shakes his head.

"You think I'm that _petty_? Lance is my best friend, yes. I feel compelled to make things easier for you, admittedly." Yami's eyes narrow. "But that's not why I'm helping you. Even if you and Lance didn't ever become a couple, I'd still be here. I befriended you, so you're my friend. And it's cheesy, fucking crappy, but I'd rather gouge my eyes out than let you pull yourself out just because you haven't even moved on!"

"_Haven't_? I'm moving on. I've _moved _on. I'm fine. I'm okay."

"Cut it out, will you, Yami?" Daniel cuts him off. "This is insane and you know it. You've worked so hard for that scholarship!"

Yami sighs, concedes for a while. "Some things are more important than some scholarship, Daniel." He whispers, as if the person he's trying to convince is himself. Daniel quirks an eyebrow suspiciously, an apparent non-verbal way of saying, _"Such as?" _

When his roommate doesn't respond, the former pharaoh looks up and flinches at the pointed look he's being given. It's not fair, he thinks. It just isn't because he isn't like everybody else. He doesn't grieve the way they do—and really, see the councilor? He doubts a stranger can understand how he's feeling right now. He doubts anyone can actually sympathize—completely, unconditionally—with what he's going through. Not that it's any excuse.

Perhaps pulling out halfway through the semester is a stupid idea. He should have thought about it more. But lately, it's all about school and requirements. Essays, quizzes, projects, term papers, reports… he isn't complaining; however, all these things are overwhelming. Somewhere between distracting himself from thinking about Lance and catching up in school, he buried himself in layers of _this is who you should be during this period_ and _this is what you must pretend to feel when these kinds of people talk to you_.

Suddenly, he can't breathe anymore!

And there's way too many people asking him how he's doing, checking up on him as if he's so close to killing himself, which isn't true by the way. Yami appreciates the concern, he really does, but there are some issues that he needs to settle on his own. If he is really going to forget about Lance and how seriously fucked-up everything has become, he would have to do it when the professors aren't giving him second glances and his classmates, pretending to care. There's also the issue of Daniel and Kaiba. Damn it, why can't he be left alone?

"I don't expect you to understand," Yami says, eyes trained on the floor. He's leaning on his knees, elbows carrying most of his head's weight. He still isn't looking at Daniel, which irritates the guy even more. "Lance's death isn't my only—I'm not upset only because he's gone, alright?"

That's the closest thing to a confession that he's ever given, Yami realizes about himself.

"What?"

"There's—sometimes you think you know the person well enough and you assume that by knowing, you'd be able to make him feel better about himself… but that's just not possible," Yami mutters. He thinks about what he remembers about his old life—of tomb robbers and strict black-and-white laws; of "My word is Law" and sacrifices, bloodshed and power. Inside his head are the echoes of children and mothers wailing, begging for their lives.

"_In the name of the Pharaoh—_"

In order to protect the majority, the blood of the minority needs to be shed.

It was a burden to live in the darker years of ancient times, where civilizations attempt to take over each other's territories. There is bloodshed and lost properties. There is destruction. Loss. A crave for power. A need for protection. Sacrifice. Mothers and children killed.

And Yami dreams about these things from the moment he turned his back on his "destiny". From the moment he watched the doors close one final time as he looks at Ishizu who promises him his other memories back. Everyone he knows is there—Yugi, Seto, Mokuba, Jonouchi, Honda, Anzu, Ishizu, Malik—and at that time, it made sense that he doesn't really belong in the past anymore. That from then on, he wouldn't be the pharaoh who doesn't remember his name, who was sacrificed to seal the Shadow Realm. The one whose destiny is to lose his memories.

He's done bad things in his past life and he dreams about them. Hears them in the walls of the campus and though it drives him insane, sends him high with denial—no, this isn't happening; Ishizu said there won't be any setbacks—he really can't talk about this. Lance is even out of the question.

"You know you can always talk to me," Daniel offers after a long time. He's waiting for Yami to explain further, to shed some light to what's really going on. But his roommate isn't talking anymore. Has gone back to his shell, apparently. He frowns when Yami shakes his head.

"It isn't as simple as that. And really, you don't have to," Yami chuckles bitterly. "I'll manage."

"Yes, you will because you're strong that way. However, if you think pulling yourself out is a medium in aiding you, then you're being stupid. You're running away."

"So what if I am? Is it that _bad_?" Yami retorts. There isn't much force on his voice but the frustration is there. Thickens everything, even. He retreats afterwards, ashamed. He avoids Daniel's gaze, apologetic for some unknown reason. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"It's fine. Running away won't solve anything and I'm sure you're aware of that. You still have me, Yami. I'm here and I'm going to help you, okay? You won't have to be alone."

"What am I? Some kind of traumatized victim?"

"I hate to break this to you but you _are_ acting like one."

"Daniel—"

"You're not leaving uni, okay? No. I'm not letting you. Promise me."

"But—"

"_Promise me_."

Yami glares at him. There's anger there, no one should tell him what he has to do. Then there's embarrassment and fear; that Daniel would discover how messed up the former pharaoh actually is and who knows where that will lead to? Gratefulness follows right after, when he grabs Yami for a hug and Yami lets him (even though he clearly hates being in close physical contact with anyone now).

"Fine."

"Good. Let's go eat now."

XXX

Seto's on his 4th beer that night—and seriously, _beer_?—when someone knocks on his door. The bane of having a dorm room, rather unlikely of him by the way but it was less effort on his part. He decides to ignore it, knowing whoever it is will go away when the message is clear. When it doesn't, he groans and glares at his door.

The thing is, he doesn't like to drink. It's a waste of his time and he doesn't get anything from it. He's a straightforward man, and while the idea of hiding from his problems is tempting, he does not do it that way. To hell with everything, he simply runs over the issues that he has. But tonight is different and things have been quite messy lately. Mokuba has decided not to talk to him for a while, after their quick argument two days ago, and the company, though faring well, was almost breached into by some ambitious hacker in Poland. Basically, he's way too worried about his company and his brother to even consider that he has school requirements and professors to bear with.

So when he unwittingly snaps at his Philosophy professor and is sent out of the classroom exactly three hours ago, Seto snaps and buys himself a case of beer. He's not known for rash decisions but to hell with it. He's in college and he's not doing anyone harm.

"Kaiba!"

It's Yami, and normally Seto wouldn't mind. He's concerned about the guy, admittedly; but he needs a break and he really, _seriously _doesn't want to talk to anyone right now. He hears Yami trying on the doorknob again and is immediately greeted with an intense feeling of satisfaction when he hears the ex-pharaoh curse stubbornly at the locked door. Why is Yami here in the first place?

Most importantly, how does he know where Seto stays?

"If you haven't noticed, this is a dorm and people are sleeping." He calls back and ignores the fact that he basically shouted, thus defeating the purpose of being quiet and sullen.

"If you open the door then you can at least hear what I have to say," Yami stubbornly replies.

Seto looks up for a minute, as if blaming the ceiling for having an annoying ex-rival outside his room. He almost trips on the case of beer that he bought while he heads for the door and it aggravates him further. When he yanks the door open, determined to glare Yami's existence away—because seriously, he isn't in the mood to deal with Yami's crap—he scowls instead upon seeing the glare that Yami greets him back with. What the hell?

"I normally stay away from your affairs but seriously, Kaiba, can't you at least fix your mess with Mokuba? He's worried as hell!"

What? Huh?

Apparently Kaiba's silence doesn't answer Yami's question. Yami walks towards the brunet and frowns at the smell of alcohol. He sees the case and then glances at Seto. He was drinking?

"Normally, I'd tell you to fix get a hold of yourself but truthfully, Kaiba, are you okay?"

Yami can't help it. He worries, too; doesn't know why only that he does. And sometimes he thinks it's a flaw; that he worries too much about other people. Then again, sometimes he shut people away so that defeats the purpose of being the good friend everyone else deserves from him. But the thing is, he never sees Kaiba drink and seeing him now, probably a bit tipsy, Yami wants to know how big Seto's problem is to make him snatch some bottles of beer.

"Mind your o—"

"Don't give me that crap. You've been into my personal space more than I want to, I'm just repaying the favor."

Seto rolls his eyes and walks back to the couch. His laptop is lying inconspicuously on the coffee table and beside it, his two cellphones. The gray one, Yami knows, is for official businesses. He's seen the brunet use it a couple of times during classes and the blue one, he assumes, is for personal ones. Unsurprisingly, there are 6 missed calls from Mokuba.

"Mokuba's worried, you know." He tries, softly this time because as much as he's an ass, Seto cares for his brother very much.

"Hn."

Yami fights the urge to roll his eyes as well. Instead, he sits at the far end of the couch and stares at the other man. It's strange, how somehow he's doing the approaching now when he's been pushing Seto away. It's all for Mokuba, though, and he's just concerned.

"Daniel's panicking because of you."

The former pharaoh's eyes widen. What? He doesn't question how Seto knows the guy because hell, he knows Lance; but panicking? Daniel? The confusion must have arisen in his eyes because Seto chuckles bitterly and drinks his beer again. When he's done, Seto throws Yami a sneer that says, "surprised I turned the table around, aren't you?" Frankly, it does not matter. Not really. Besides, that mess with Daniel about the pulling out is his and Daniel's problem. Even if Kaiba wanted to help, he really wouldn't do much.

"I'm surprised no one outside your roommate has noticed that you haven't been your normal geeky self," the brunet drawls. It's annoying, Yami finds, but he also feels that Seto's doing it on purpose. To irk him too much that he'd volunteer to walk out.

"But that's not the problem we want to solve right now, is it?" he counters. "I'm here because obviously, you're avoiding your brother and he's gotten so worked up because of whatever mess you've started that he called _me_ to ask you what's bothering you." Well, okay, so technically, that wasn't true because Mokuba had only called to see how Yami was doing and it was Yami who volunteered to check Seto. Still.

Seto stiffened visibly at the mention of his brother's name and he glares at Yami for bringing it up. It's not his place to interfere. "Tell him I'm fine then. I don't care."

"Hah. Right. _Hey, Mokuba, guess what? Your brother's fine! Yes, he is. Oh, and he's two bottles close to getting drunk. _Because that would go so well. " Yami retorts sarcastically.

"I don't need your help so can you just get the hell out of here, Yami?"

Instead, Yami sinks deeper in the couch and stares at him smugly. "I don't think so. I'm quite comfy here."

"Ass—"

"See, Kaiba, it's simple. I'm not going anywhere and you're going to get stuck here with me _all night_. Yes, how horrible for you. Devastating, really. But whatever crap you've fallen into, you need to fix it because as much as I want to see you drunk, or tipsy, for blackmail material, it's not good when I have to be your classmate in your morning classes as well." That was pretty harsh even for Yami but he's just been through several not-going-smoothly classes and he's tired.

"Whatever."

No one speaks after that. One of them falls asleep first, head lolling to the side. It's Seto and Yami, who's close to falling asleep too, notices and grabs a pillow for Seto's use. He wonders why they're at each other's throats lately when Kaiba has been basically sneaking up on him and offering him unwanted advice on how to move on and all that crap. Then again, everyone has limitations, don't they? And apparently, Seto is still human enough to crumble under the pressure that he has to go through everyday. A small, almost insignificant part of Yami sort of pities Seto, for having to bear with a lot of things but that is immediately squished by the reasoning that the brunet is admittedly stronger than anyone else Yami has ever known. That he knows what he's getting into.

He falls asleep soon after beside Seto and it's going to be awkward in the morning but it doesn't matter at the moment. Yami closes his eyes, and really, he should have known better.

He really should have.

XXX

"_I'll go ahead and get us a cab, okay?" _

_He's kinda tipsy, has drank one too many drink and he knows Lance has, too. If the intoxicated look in his eyes is any indication; that is. Lance nods at him; still preoccupied with his sister's unexpected phonecall. Anastasia still adamantly refuses to acknowledge that her older brother is in a relationship with another man. But it's her problem, Lance said before, and he's not going to follow her just because she's "that way". _

_Yami doesn't know why he thought walking farther from the bar they went to is a good idea, only that he has to get themselves a cab and so far, not one is passing by the place. So he walks, hands in his pocket and his jacket not doing much to protect him from the cold. He's just past the darkened alley when three guys block his path, sneering at him lewdly. That's bad news, he tells himself and he immediately heads back when one of them grips his shoulder tight. _

"_Where're you goin', pretty thing?" _

_Yami stiffens and smacks the hand away, but it doesn't move. Instead, he's turned to face them and they grin at him. It makes him sick. "Don't touch me," he grits out but unfortunately, they seem to get even more entertained at the warning. _

"_You're not going to go chaste on us, are you?" another teases as his hand reaches even farther down and tries to grab Yami's crotch. It's all but natural that Yami grab the hand and punch its owner hard on the face. When the man staggers back, holding his broken nose, the other two men with him lash on Yami and slams him to the wall in the process. The impact immobilizes Yami for a while until he realizes that they're crowding up on him and he's trapped between them and the wall. Chances are, Lance also doesn't know where he is. _

_Lance. _

"_Yami?" _

_Yami gasps at the familiar voice. No, go away, he wants to say because he knows how these things end up with. Sooner or later, one of them is going to get hurt badly and he hopes that it isn't Lance. Wait, why are there five men now? _

"_Lance, don't—!"_

_Too late. Attracted to his voice, Lance had just walked on them and caught the attention of the men. He punches the one that's trapping Yami and the man lands on his back with a loud 'oof!'. Lance isn't quick on avoiding punches, though, because suddenly he has four other men on him and it's not long before he's trading punches with them, hitting and being hit. Yami watches, horrified, before he's compelled to join in and defend Lance as well. _

_There's only two men left now, the other three either dropping unconscious after being punched way too much or running away, and it was only a moment when Yami is kicked in the stomach and he doubles in pain that Lance turns around to attend to him. _

_Lance is way too distracted by Yami's pain to notice that the man he's fighting is going to hit him with a rock. But Yami sees, tries to catch Lance's attention. And he's too late._

"_Lance!" _

_Lance slumps forward, his head having hit harder than was probably expected. There's blood on the injury and that's never good. "Y-Yami, you okay?" he croaks as he falls on his boyfriend. _

"_Come on, don't close your eyes, okay?" _

"_Sleepy."_

"_Lance!" _

"_G'night…"_

"_Help! LANCE!" _

"Wake up, Yami! Goddamnit!"

Yami wakes up in a jolt, eyes widening at the unfamiliar surrounding before he catches Seto's gaze. Last night's events flash in his mind and he blushes at having accidentally slept in.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, the dream still fresh in mind.

Seto grimaces and waves it off. He's dressed into casual clothes now, having decided not to attend any of his classes this morning. It should trouble him—the fact that he didn't wake Yami up the moment _he _realized Yami had slept in with him on the same couch. But Yami had slept soundly at first, or so it seemed. Apparently, he was having a nightmare. Good job at classifying dreams, Kaiba.

"Shouldn't you be in class by 9?" He asks Yami, whose eyes widen in realization. "Figures. You might want to hurry up. It's past 8."

In an instant, Yami stands up and tries to fix his disheveled appearance. He's by the door when he falters and turns around. "You're not going to interrogate me or anything?" Yami offers, a quiet plead. Seto picks it up, though, and shakes his head, sipping on his coffee and looking at anything but his former rival.

"It's none of my business. If you want to talk, well, talk. I really don't mind; nor do I care that much."

"Oh. Thanks, Kaiba."

Yami's already almost out when Seto calls him back.

"I don't care what you've actually dreamed about but you'll do better by not mulling over it."

"Bye, Kaiba."

"Whatever."

Despite it all, Yami reluctantly smiles. It's small, but it's a change, he figures.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I've been waiting so long for this Seto-centric chapter. Yes, sorry, not enough Yami here but I promise he'll be back in the next chapter. I lost my USB flashdisk a couple of days ago so I had to look for my old files again in the Internet. If there are lapses in my plot because of this chapter, please accept my apologies. As I've promised, the story's good for more or less, three chapters then it'll be done. Thank you for reading. Drop a review after this, if it's not any trouble. I'd really want to know what you think. **

**(Also, I think this one's a bit shorter than the usual length of my chapters. But I hope the quality makes up for it.)

* * *

**

**Chapter 8: Push and Pull **

_We are who we were when _

_Could have been more but _

_At least you're still my day late friend_

- Day Late Friend, Anberlin

The thing is, Seto obsesses with the tiniest details.

Despite the hangover from his rather _intelligent _decision to get drunk the night before, he's chewing the head off of his employee upon noticing that the numbers were wrong by one decimal point. Apparently the man does not understand just how much a corporation loses from a simple miscalculation. Seto watches the man stammer an apology, and he considers letting this slip. So he does; gives a brief, "You can go" and is satisfied at the look of mixed horror and disbelief on the employee's face.

He hasn't talked with his brother long enough to completely erase whatever doubt that's currently lurking in Mokuba's mind. (Because seriously, he _is _doing well and he doesn't need the break that his brother arranged for him _behind his back_.) They talked this morning while Seto was silently complaining about the painful throbbing of his head, but they haven't discussed the real issue since Mokuba was headed to school. And no, it isn't because Seto's skirting around the "issue". Mokuba had asked about his classes, not knowing that his brother intends to skip another day of classes because he's nursing a hangover; and Seto had dutifully, quite expectedly, told him that he's doing well as usual.

However, when his little brother asked about Yami, mentioned in passing that "…talking to Yugi about quitting the university. Is it true, nii-sama?", Seto nearly dropped his phone. Maybe Seto's being irrational and meddlesome, but it infuriates him to learn that yet again, Yami's prepared to do something atrociously stupid. (Therefore, ruins Seto's mood for the day, and has him barking at poor, helpless employees who make mistakes in their calculations—Seto seems to fail to get over that fact.)

It's a couple of minutes later, when the employee is gone and he's supposed to be half-buried with documents he plans to re-check, when he realizes that he's still stuck on the first paragraph of the first page of the first document. Completely unproductive, of course, and he drinks his cup of coffee—how many has he had, by the way?—to distract himself. All he's thinking about, though, is _Yami _and _quitting the university_. It isn't true, is it? There's absolutely no way that Yami's foolish enough to drop something that he's obviously worked hard for.

There's no way. Seto remembers how Yami once upon a time thought college was the most important thing after his past.

_Lunchtime, a week before they graduate; Seto sees Yami under the oak tree outside their classroom. He's staring at the sky, watching the clouds roll by like he's got nothing better to do. The brunet stalks towards him, blocks his view with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow for speculation and bemusement. Seto doesn't bother with "what the hell are you doing?" knowing how utterly ridiculous that must sound from him. He does ask: _

"_You're kidding me, right?" _

_Yami doesn't sit up, but raises an eyebrow back at him; and it's all dueling and hard-line rivalries all over again. There's just something about them that makes each other tick, Seto guesses. Not that he has to justify what he's doing. It's just annoying to find Yami doing _nothing _when these past months, the ex-pharaoh has been the busiest (or one of) students in school_

"_What? No employees to fire today, Kaiba?" It's mocking, and surprisingly enough, it doesn't irritate Seto that much. _

"_I'm surprised you're wasting your break. Shouldn't you be running around and looking for extra credit?" Which is a lie, by the way, because even Seto knows that his former rival doesn't need any more credit. Yami laughs right after scoffing before sitting up. There's amusement in the way his eyes glitter, and to Seto's horror, it seems to make him smile back—which is yes, quite horrifying, indeed. Seto shakes his head._

_There's a wistful tone in Yami's voice when he replies, "We never had colleges in our time. It must have been so amazing—" then he murmurs—"Seth would have had a great time proving his teachers that he was better than them." _

_The brunet doesn't hide his frown. His answer is short. "Seth, huh." _

_And it sounds more to him as if he were jealous of his lookalike than anything else. He isn't; and he's thankful Yami appears to ignore it anyway. _

"_He's like you to an extent, I guess," Yami continues and he's looking at the CEO now; all smiling and melancholic at the same time. "Your differences far outweigh your similarities, though. I take it that it's better that way." _

_Annoyed, Seto replies, "Why are you even talking about him right now?" _

_Yami smiles to himself. Again. It's quite disorienting, Seto points out to himself. _

"_I passed the university's entrance exam—"Which university?"—and quite frankly, I'm excited." _

"_That's reasonable," Seto answers, having no other things to say. _

_The former pharaoh nods and for a moment, Seto thinks he's stopped becoming the Asshole of the Century in his ex-rival's eyes; until Yami looks away, right back at the sky. _

"_Yeah, I guess. I've always wanted to know how studying in a university would be like." _

Seto remembers not having been able to answer that.

"Mr. Kaiba, are you alright, sir?"

He looks up, sees the worried look on his assistant and normally, he'd send her away but at the moment, he doesn't feel like it. So he ignores her instead, and reaches for his briefcase. He's putting the documents inside along with his laptop, albeit distractedly, until he notices that his secretary hasn't left yet.

"Yes?" Seto questions. He doesn't smirk—though he feels like it—when his secretary, Anna, jumps at his voice.

"N-nothing, s-sir. I'll just uhh… go now and uhh—yes, go now."

_Good, _the CEO thinks before he heads out, too. Thirty minutes later, he's back in school and knocking on Yami's dorm room. He isn't surprised to see Daniel, though; and from the looks of it, the guy doesn't seem surprised to see him, as well.

"You're looking for Yami, aren't you?"

"Where is he?" He notices Daniel's disheveled appearance, as if he'd just woken up, and the sight of their shared dormroom doesn't escape his notice, either. Long story short, it's messier than usual, with clothes scattered all over the place and books piled on each other from each corner. There are sheets of paper on Yami's bed, which Seto assumes are his graded papers, and there's a packed suitcase beside it. He doesn't have to ask, knowing Yami owns it.

"He hasn't come back since last night. I was assuming that he went to your place, said something about thanking you. I don't really know." Daniel explains. "I couldn't stop him. Has his mind made up even before we talked about it."

Seto nods just to say that he heard the guy, before he leaves instructions to contact him the moment Yami gets back. (He's sure Yami will be there. He can't leave without his suitcase, can he?) This does not explain why he's waiting for a phonecall in a nearby coffee shop, which happened to be the very coffee shop Yami used to work in, and frustrating to wits' end the barista because _obviously_, his coffee isn't to his satisfaction. Having his briefcase with him should have been a good thing since he can work now while waiting—at least—but when he's on the same document, he finds himself failing to understand anything at all.

Seriously.

Lance talked to him twice before his last date with Yami. The guy couldn't actually _stop _talking about how awesome his boyfriend was. What Seto doesn't understand is why he didn't even tell his classmate to shut up. Ten minutes before they had an exam in Management, the day before Lance's date with Yami, Lance had muttered under his breath, "I don't understand him sometimes."

And Seto just _had _to look up from the book he's reading and ask.

"Yami, I mean."

Of course.

XXX

"_I don't understand him sometimes." _

"_I'm surprised you _can _understand anyone at all." _

"_Har, har, Kaiba. Very funny." _

_Seto smirks then goes back to what he was reading. He doesn't forget Lance's apparent problem, though, so he looks back at his seatmate. "Having problems in paradise?"_

"_No, of course not." Then Lance sighs. "It's just—I'm sure Yami is okay and I swear I'm with him most of the time so there's no reason to suddenly fear me, but sometimes, he just completely freezes, you know? Like he's seen a ghost or something. He pretends I don't notice, though, and of course I'll wait for him to tell me what's going on but I can't just watch in the sidelines if he's scared of something."_

"_You do realize that you answered your problem already, right? Assuming that it does exist; that is." _

"_Be helpful for once, will you, Kaiba?" _

_Seto sighs. Of course, he gets it. And oddly enough, he feels smugly satisfied that he _knows _what Yami is 'scared of'. Ishizu warned him about this. Had pulled Seto aside before he went to the jet. Yami had gone with Yugi and his friends, so Ishizu didn't have a chance to tell them what Yami bargained for. After all, no one can easily turn his back on his past—or his destiny, for this matter—without consequences. She didn't have to tell him that there will be flashbacks, and they won't be the nice and happy ones. He had only looked and seen the horror in her eyes for that. So Seto does know. But he won't tell Lance. Yami will tell his _boyfriend _when he wants to—if he even wants to._

"_What do you want me to say? That your boyfriend's hiding things from you? Lance, believe it or not, but this isn't really about you." The CEO says. He sees Lance's eyes narrow in suspicion._

"_How would you know? You haven't even met Yami yet." Good point, if it were only true. _

"_I have—"You have?—o-on this tournament my company sponsored two years ago." It isn't a lie, but it isn't wholly true, either. Then again, what he doesn't know won't hurt him, right? "He's been having the same… problem ever since." _

"_Sheesh, Yami," Lance mutters again. "So you haven't really met him? Like, personally?" _

I have._ "I haven't." _

"_He's awesome! Rather secretive, sure, but he's—he adores history so much. When he talks about Ancient Egypt, it sounds like he was actually there. When he does, you can see his face light up like he's reliving it and--and he's fascinating. I should introduce you to him one of these days." _

_When Lance begins to talk about a coffee shop a couple of blocks from the university, Seto thinks it's safe to start ignoring him. He's suddenly pissed at Lance and he doesn't even know why. Of course Yami would know about Ancient Egypt. He _was _there three millennia ago. Lance missed out Yami's tendency to self-destruct especially when he's upset; or how he ends up doing more than his fair share of the work because he doesn't want to have a less than perfect grade. Lance doesn't even know that Yami's been having dreams about his past and that it's affected him enough to "freeze" like he's been described to have done. _

_The thing is, Lance doesn't know much about Yami except that he apparently loves history so much—which isn't even surprising—and he talks like he actually does._

_Like he actually knows more than Seto already does. _

_And that's when—after the professor hands him his exam and tells them to begin answering—he realizes that he's downright jealous. _

_Of Lance, who doesn't even know Yami enough. _

_Jealous. _

The shrill sound of his phone ringing snaps Seto back to the real world. It's been an hour, he guesses, and he's been zoning out. At least the barista isn't glaring daggers at him anymore—not that he cares—and at least he doesn't look like an idiot for staring at nothing. He realizes that his coffee's cold now and that there is a new set of customers in the shop. The ringtone catches his attention; and that's when he remembers why someone's supposed to call him on his metallic blue phone (personal calls only, remember?).

"Kaiba," he answers.

"Leave me alone, Kaiba."

"Yami."

"Stuck to one-word answers now? I'm serious. I really don't need your help, which I'm really honestly grateful for. But seriously, let me be, alright?"

"And let you drop off college?"

He hears Yami sigh. Seto stands up and leaves, determined to make Yami change his mind. It wouldn't do him good if he just lets the guy leave because of—he doesn't know.

"You can't do anything about it, can you? I've made up my mind, you know. You can't force me to stay if I don't really want to." Good point.

"Yes, but the question is—" Seto slams on the break before he hits another car and honks his horn. Stupid driver, can't he see the damn stoplight?! "—are you doing this out of pure want or something else? Because really, you do have a knack of doing moronic things when you're terribly down."

It doesn't surprise him that Yami doesn't answer or that Yami ends the phonecall. It isn't a big deal because just ahead, he sees his former rival waiting for a cab. He won't have any of that.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: If someone's going to ask me the first word that I'd use to describe this chapter, I'm going to answer "unexpected". I'm serious. Okay, maybe I'm half-not. But anyway, I'm taking a break from the AE stuff because I'm saving it for next week. School's still stupidly giving so many requirements and training is driving me nuts. So okay, this update… it's not long-ish and some people might be disturbed by it. I'm not sure if I should apologize for that. **

**To justify this chapter, I read somewhere in my Psychology book that emotional instability is one of the (unfortunate) effects of trauma. I know, I know, I'm not in the position to talk about that. Heck, where does that even come in my story, right? I'll answer that later. Meanwhile, here's the next chapter and hopefully, **_**hopefully **_**you all like it.**

**Don't forget to tell me what you think! ^^**

* * *

**Chapter 9: Far Gone**

"_I can't fix you; I can't save you_

_It's something you have to do." _

_- Come Back to Me, David Cook _

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Why am I not surprised to see you?"

Yami glares at him. From the cab, the driver watches curiously only to have his view blocked by Seto. Seto meets Yami's gaze challengingly, leaning on the door of the cab, arms crossed and waiting for the ex-pharaoh to say something. His suitcases were on the ground and Yami was holding on to his plane ticket tightly. With red-rimmed eyes and sickly pallor, Yami looks terrible, Seto notes. And he frowns at that. What just happened?

"You're leaving," Seto points out like he can't believe it. Like he refuses to believe it, and when Yami nods, he scowls. "You're running away," he accuses.

"_To pay my respects; I'm not a villain here who wanted your brother dead, Anastasia," Yami replied dully, tiredly. "I cared for Lance and you have to acknowledge that."_

"_You know that I won't," Anastasia spat. "You let him die. You could have helped him __if you cared__. But no, you didn't. He was the only person I have in the world, Yami."_

_Anastasia, with his long, curly black hair that stayed neatly in a ponytail and wide, expressive eyes, was close to tears. Yami felt all the more horrible and opened his mouth to speak._

"_I'm sorry."_

"_Don't __apologize__. It's too late!" Lance's sister erupted and pushed Yami away, hard enough for the former monarch to hit the wall. Then Anastasia bit out, "I hate you."_

"So what if I am?" Yami questions because he's tired of all this crap. He's tired of going to his classes, pretending he's okay when he isn't and trying so damn hard to be good. To assure himself that he's still Yami, the studious History freak. The average, _normal _college student that he feels comfortable with. The thing is, he's failing. Or well, based on his standards anyway; and it feels horrible. It's like going against Dartz one more time and watching Seto collapse, soul taken and Yami left alone. Always alone. Defeated; pathetic; helpless. This time, he couldn't win and he lets his friends down. Let everyone who knows him down. His current state in college? That's how it feels, and Yami drowns in it. He's teetering in the edge and he doesn't know if he wants to cry or laugh.

"This isn't going to solve your problem," the CEO rebuts.

Yami shakes his head because he doesn't care. Not anymore. He wants to laugh out loud. This is too much. He wants to be left alone. Oh Ra, he wants so many things right now. Like peace and quiet. "No, it won't," he agrees, "but I'm leaving anyway. Please get away from the door, Seto."

"You're insane if you think I'll let you go in your present state," Seto says stubbornly, approaching Yami slowly. He doesn't know why but he's compelled to come nearer. To make sure Yami doesn't run away, to make sure Yami doesn't slip from his grasp.

Yami sighs and looks at him, all the weariness and the resignation being sent through a simple stare. He's tired, damn it. _Let me go_. He stands still, though; stiffens, in fact, when Seto stops in front of him. The taxi driver honks his horn impatiently and Seto turns around, glares at him. He reaches for the folded bill in his pocket and hands it to the man in the car. Go away, Seto wants to say and the driver does. When he looks back at Yami, Yami has his head turned from him, watching as the car sped away. His entire posture screamed wistfulness and submission. It scares Seto. He doesn't know how to talk to this Yami.

"Leave me alone."

"I won't."

"Damn it, Kaiba." Yami's eyes relit with anger and this one, Seto feels he's more comfortable with. This one, he knows exactly how to handle. He steps back and grabs the suitcases before Yami can even react. He carries them back into the dorm room, which he's sure is empty right now. Behind him, Yami follows, sending him heated glares.

When the door slams shut, Seto sits on Daniel's bed and watches Yami carefully. Yami hasn't spoken yet, nor has he moved. But it's something Seto isn't worried about. A couple of minutes are wasted on tensed silence and it ends when Yami sighs heavily and heads to the bathroom, apparently finding it the only place in the room that can separate him from the CEO. Seto doesn't mind, not really. He switches his phones off and ignores the beeping of his wristwatch. This, somehow, is more important than board meetings.

"Take your time," Seto offers. It's a truce of some sort and Yami gladly takes it without saying a word.

He takes the time that Yami is in the bathroom to run a quick scan of the room, and he finds his gaze lingering on the picture frame on top of Daniel's drawer. It's a photograph of Daniel, Lance and Yami having pizza in the nearby pizza joint. It looks familiar and he knows why. There's an exact, although slightly crumpled, copy of it tucked safely in his wallet. And Seto takes it out, as if he wants to verify that it's genuine. That it's an exact, genuine copy of the picture he sees in the frame.

"_Here."_

_Lance hands him an envelope, crisp and previously neatly kept. Seto spares him a minute to glance, eyebrow raised suspiciously as his classmate meets his gaze head-on. Convinced and abashed at the same time. How Lance does that, Seto will never know but his suspicious doesn't fade. It's habit, his mind says. Oh shut up, he dutifully counters. _

"_What's this?" He asks, flipping the flap open. _

"_The secret to the universe," Lance answers blandly before he sits down beside the CEO. _

_Seto makes sure to roll his eyes at his classmate before he looks at the photo; knows for a fact that his eyes widen at the image he sees. Yami smiles at him from the photograph, eyes reflecting the bubbling laughter that was probably threatening to slip from his lips. Seto knows it because he's seen Yami more than enough times in the company of Yuugi and his friends; knows that Yami throws his head back when he laughs good-naturedly, and his eyes crinkle adorably when he smiles thoughtfully. Seto knows, okay? He looks at Lance. _

"_Who's the guy beside you?" Seto plays his role as the apathetic classmate well. _

_Lance chuckles beside him quite expectedly. _

"_That's Yami," Lance answers, grinning and remembering that particular night with his boyfriend. _

"_Okay."_

_Apathy was good on Seto, he realizes. _

"'_Okay'?" Lance questions as if he can't believe it. Seto smirks and Lance finally, _finally _gets the joke. "Shut up," he defends embarrassedly. When he gets over the initial humiliation, Lance, blushing and smiling at the same time, turns to the brunet. "I want you to meet him." _

"_No."_

"_No?"_

"_Yes, Lance. No." _

_Lance looks affronted but he submits eventually. He sighs and proceeds to show the CEO that he understands. "You don't know what you're missing. He's a great guy," he says. Seto doesn't react. _

I know_, Seto wants to say; he doesn't. _

"_He's probably skipping lunch to read in the library again," Seto's classmate mutters distractedly. The professor enters the classroom unnoticed and frankly, though Seto's seen him already, he doesn't care much. _

"_Pay attention," he tells Lance. _

"_But I'm worried."_

"_Worry later when you won't disturb me." _

"_Why are you so grouchy today?" _

"_Because you're mooning over your boyfriend. Again."_

"_I am not mooning."_

"_Whatever you say, Lance." _

"_I'm not."_

"_Got it," Seto nods absentmindedly and he glances at the picture laid innocently on his desk. He takes it and hands it to the other man, who is unbelievably pouting at him. "This is ridiculous. Can't you be even on rare occasions be normal, Lance?" _

_It's exasperated, the tone of his voice and Lance laughs. He returns the photograph and when Seto stares at him bemusedly, his grin is ever present and wide. "You take it. I'm sure eventually you'll yearn to break free from your anti-social self-exile." _

_The conversation ends at that because the professor announces an exam. Seto doesn't utter a 'thanks'. He doesn't have the chance to give a comeback. Instead, he reaches for two sheets of blank paper and gives the spare one to Lance, knowing full well that the other man didn't bring any. _

_When he finishes the exam, he's the first person to leave the classroom and he gazes at the photograph. Without a thought, he puts it in his wallet and heads to the parking area. He had to go to work._

"GO AWAY!"

The sound of breaking glass catches Seto's attention and in an instant, he's running to the bathroom. Nothing else could have caused that noise except the mirror. When he grabs the door and it won't budge, Seto curses loudly and starts pounding on the door. Damn it, damn it, damn it…

"Open the door, Yami!" He shouts and he's worried. He's panicking and he's furious. He can hear the sound of shuffling inside and he doesn't dare think where it originates. There are footsteps on broken glass and he feels the click of the door being unlock first before he hears it. When it's unlocked, he yanks the door open and he has to stare for a few moments before the sight processes in his mind.

Yami is shivering in front of him, his hands bloodied. His shoulders are slumped and his eyes are dead to the world. Lost, dazed; isolated, mad. He's borderline hysterical and it's a change from the sullen, resigned fellow Seto stopped earlier. When Yami looks at him and at first appears as if he doesn't recognize Seto, Seto has to pause and take a step back.

"Yami?" He tries a few minutes later.

Yami trembles and shakes his head. He meets Seto's gaze and he's helpless like that—confused and guilty, restrained and wanting to break free.

"It wasn't my fault," Yami whispers.

"What?"

"It's not my fault, not mine… I didn't mean to," the former pharaoh rambles and he closes his eyes as if it can shield him from his nightmare. Seto walks towards him slowly and makes the mistake of stepping on a shard of glass. The sound breaks Yami's rant and he looks up, terrified of Seto all of a sudden. "No! Go away!"

"Yami, I'm not going to hurt you…"

"Liar!"

Yami backs away like a frightened animal and Seto unwittingly approaches anyway.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"Why should I trust you?" Yami refutes, narrowing his eyes with distrust.

Seto hesitantly closes the distance between them and pulls Yami into a hug, knowing it's not the wisest thing to do. But is there another way to convince Yami? He doesn't think so. "Because it's what we do when we're both in danger," he admits in a whisper.

"What?"

"Because I trust you."

And Seto remembers. He thinks of Dartz, of Pegasus and Siegfried. He remembers Noah and Mokuba and grimaces at the memory of losing to his green-haired clone. He remembers Yami backing him up, despite his protests. Seto looks at Yami now, whose suspicion is evident. "Let me help," he pleads.

"Why?"

Despite this, Yami places his bloodied hands on Seto's chest, gradually shifting moods. He shakes his head and sees the broken mirror. "I hate myself," he confesses. "I hurt people."

_In the name of the Pharaoh…_

"_Mercy, sire. Please!"_

"_You killed five soldiers and robbed my father's tomb. Why should I?"_

"_My family is starving, my lord. Mercy!"_

_Darkness. Yami. The nameless pharaoh. _

"Get away from me, Kaiba."

When he tries to push Seto away, the brunet doesn't move. He stands still, locks Yami in an embrace until the other man concedes and rests his head on Seto's chest. He's breathing heavily, Yami is, and Seto can't help but think that he's glad to be here, right now. To pick up the pieces and make sure everything's going to be alright like he promised. Like Yami unconsciously trusts him to do.

"I'm so tired," Yami drawls, the exhaustion seeping in his bones like cold dread.

"Come on, let's get your hands cleaned."

Twenty minutes later, Seto and Yami are sitting on Yami's bed with the first-aid kit laid out beside them. Yami hasn't spoken in the entire duration since Seto walked them out of the half-destroyed bathroom.

"Why are you still here?" Yami inquires.

"You always self-destruct when you're upset."

"It doesn't justify your presence."

Seto meets his gaze. "No, it doesn't."

Yami looks away.

"You need to talk about this. It's killing you, Yami."

"No."

"Yami—"

"No amount of talking can make me someone I'm not. I'm not—I'm not a good person, Seto."

"Where did you get that idea?"

"I lost my name for a reason, you know."

Then Seto figures it out. The memories.

"You had no choice." Yami chuckles bitterly and lies on the bed, staring at the ceiling and determined to ignore Seto's reasoning.

"One thing I learned from you," Yami starts, "is that we always have choices."

For once, the CEO doesn't know what to say. It's like he ran out of words to utter and he gazes at the former pharaoh, seeking an explanation behind this breakdown. Something must have triggered this kind of behavior.

"Everything I touch… every person I care about… they get hurt," Yami's voice breaks. "It's unfair. I was only doing my job. I couldn't have… I shouldn't have but what about my people? I couldn't leave them to die… I always hurt people. I can't stop."

Lance, Daniel, Anastasia

Yuugi, Grandpa, Mokuba, Jou, Seto

Mahado, Seth

People important to him, right?

The sob almost escapes. Yami shuts his eyes.

It reaches the point where Yami just turns his back on Seto and buries his head under the pillow. Seto doesn't have to be close to him to know that the tremors running through his body were due to his crying. And Seto sighs. His mind is so blank right now, his emotions are running raw and all he can remember is that he should be there for Yami. He shrugs his bloodstained shirt coat off and sits on the empty space beside Yami. He crosses his arms and leans on the headboard, watching the door, watching Yami.

They share the small bed and Seto vows that this mess ends soon. They don't speak since then until Yami falls asleep and Seto wearily follows suit, closing his eyes.

XXX

The first thing Seto notices when he opens his eyes is that the clutter they left earlier has been cleaned up and that there's a note on the drawer beside him.

_I'm sorry. – Yami _

The words take a long time to process in his head and when they do, Seto stares. He frowns deeply and thinks of what to do next. Of what the wisest thing to do is.

He flips his phone open and he has seven unread text messages, four of which came from Yami and three, from Daniel. He reads Yami's most recent one first.

_I need this. _

Seto closes his eyes for a while before he replies:

_I know. _

XXX

**Next: Time heals all wounds, or so they say. And Yami believes that; he needs to. Meanwhile, in campus, Seto investigates the reason behind Yami's breakdown. They're going to meet again. They have to. Seto has to believe in that. **


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Remember Yami's text messages? Good. I'd a hard time choosing the words for the messages but all is well, finally. I hope this wasn't much of a leap from the previous chapter or anything. I'm glad to be writing again and hopefully this hasn't produced as much errors as There's Only Us, which I uploaded several days ago. Haha. Anyway, read and review, 'kay? I'd like to know what you think! **

**Oh. I do have a question. Would anyone fancy an AU-fic, I wonder? Do tell me. **

* * *

**Chapter 10: Centerfold**

_There's nothing good about goodbye_

_I could swear I saw you cry_

_Always knew you'd wind up falling harder_

_Nothing good about goodbye_

_Just say goodbye_

- Nothing Good About Goodbye, Hinder

_#1: Have you ever felt like you don't belong, Kaiba?_

The day after Seto let Yami go, he skipped classes. There was no harm in the action since attendance wasn't really checked anyway. He headed straight to his office, created a program, promoted two managers and fired a corrupt executive.

It's a miracle, he considers as he drains his fifth cup of coffee that day and misses lunch break again. His train of thought is focused on the last time he was with Yami. There are so many things that he should have said—needed to be said. There's so much that he needs Yami to realize. And he was close—so painstakingly close—to help Yami with that. Make him see that it's time to move on. That nothing productive comes after swimming in regret and self-loathing.

But he understands. Knows for a fact that logic is by far the least that the ex-spirit needs right now. It's a miracle that he doesn't run after the man even when instincts tell him to.

Seto sighs and goes back to his office. Most of the employees are still having lunch, something he's grateful for since the entire floor is quiet and empty. Ah, peaceful. He doesn't lock the door but he makes sure it's closed as he walks towards the couch and falls on it. For all the comfort the sofa offers, this is the first time that he actually sits and lies on it. Never had the time to just lean back and relax. Or play with whatever gadget is nearby, in Mokuba's case anyway.

From his place in the sofa, Seto realizes three things: that the first thing one sees is the shelf; that there's a stolen shot of a 9-year old Seto Kaiba on said shelf; and that there's an outdated magazine under the glass coffee table in front of him. He reaches for the magazine, curiosity piqued, before his eyes widen.

The magazine is about two years old, with old articles and a too-disorganized layout. But what's interesting is the center fold that he accidentally stumbles into. It was a cropped photo of Yami and himself, facing each other in yet another competition, reasonable younger and much more stubborn than they are now. Frankly, Seto can't even remember which competition this was. A small detail that someone like him dutifully neglects in favor of the bigger picture (no pun intended). The thing is, Seto can throw this away. This is junk, basically, and he doesn't like junk in his office.

Seto doesn't, though.

Instead, he skims through the pages, admires the efforts and labor the editors and writers had undergone just to present reasonably clear pictures of the two famous duelists and snippets of their conversations.

During the period where he and Yami were rivals, their worlds had been small and vibrant. Magnified. At that time, when they traded verbal spars with each other, they existed solely for each other. Sure, Yami had other intentions but he won because he was competing against Seto and he _had _to. Seto wanted the crown and Yami defended it. With vigor, without a past.

Things had been so simple.

When Yami got his past, his name and his own body, he stopped competing. Had wanted to learn; to experience the gifts of the New Age. And Seto had no choice but to let him be. Seto, though. He was thrown out of loop. Felt like a pendulum that was suddenly cast into a vacuum. No light, no friction, no gravity. No magnetic force.

It had felt like abandonment.

But see, people eventually learn to find their new roles and spring back. They have to, unless they want to live in a standstill like a ship stuck in the doldrums.

"Damn it," Seto puts a stop on the direction his thoughts are headed to. There's a reason why he doesn't think about these things. He rubs his eyes and puts the magazine aside. No need to unearth long-buried skeletons, and whatnot.

"Mr. Kaiba?"

His secretary knocks before uncertainly walking in.

"What is it?"

"A Mr. Daniel—"

"Let him in."

"But sir, he doesn't have an appointment and—"

"Let him in," Seto repeats. He doesn't move from where he's seated but his secretary gets the point anyway and scrambles out. A few seconds later, Yami's roommate strides in, gait determined to wrench a reasonable conversation from him.

_#2: Please take care of Daniel. He wouldn't understand. _

"Help me find Yami."

Seto doesn't speak. He doesn't sneer. He looks and immediately finds that roughly two days of worrying about Yami has left Daniel teetering on sanity's edge; worried and exhausted. Daniel shakes his head and instead of sitting down, he paces. At the back of Seto's mind, Yami's request rings true and loud and Seto immediately scrambles to find the words that can accurately explain why the former pharaoh has ran away. Has hidden. But before he can even say something, the other man stops and turns to him.

"I know we haven't really met except for the times when you visit Yami… or well, when Lance drags you with him but please. Yami, he…" Daniel exhales, producing a loud frustrated noise, as his hand runs through his hair. A habit, Seto gathers. "Anastasia didn't mean it. Whatever she said, she didn't mean it. She does that when she's upset."

"It's not much of an excuse now, is it?" Kaiba counters defensively. He knows of Anastasia's tempers. But it doesn't explain why she lashed out at Yami. It was a misplacement of blame and Anatasia had no right to do that. But hey, that's just his opinion.

"I know that! But he can't go away like that," Daniel whispers. Tries to calm down after that, and for once Seto actually sympathizes with the man. It isn't easy to stand between two forces, especially if one keeps pushing and the other, pulling. It isn't also relatively easy to make sure everyone else is alright with what's going on. Arbiters have the hardest job in the world. "It's not his fault. Why can't Yami see that?"

"Logically, Yami is aware of that fact."

"Then why—"

"What's true isn't always what people believe in, Daniel. Yami knows. Believe him to know that… but something like this happens? You can't expect him to be okay after a few weeks when he hasn't really started to move on." Seto glances at the frame on the shelf, frowns at the memory that first comes to mind as he sees his 9-year old self. The thing is, bad stuff happens and the impact is always worst on the person who knows about it but didn't do anything.

"What am I supposed to do then?"

"Get on with your life, for all I care. He'll come back when he's ready."

Daniel chuckles. It's a bitter, sarcastic sound coming from him and Seto scowls. Has no idea how to confront the man and tell him he doesn't have to fulfill some misguided sense of responsibility over Yami. That Yami's his own person and Daniel has to respect his decisions. _Look at the mess you've gotten yourself into_, he reprimands himself.

_Oh shut up_.

The other man sits down on one of the available chairs and fixes his gaze at Seto, eyes narrowed in a blend of suspicion and curiosity.

"You seem to know him so well," Daniel observes. Seto wittily raises an eyebrow in response.

_I seem to, don't I? _

Seto keeps quiet.

"You were rivals, weren't you?"

Seto doesn't question Daniel's knowledge, considers that once upon a time their tournaments were televised and exposed for public consumption. Daniel could have gotten his information from there, couldn't he?

"What in the world is your point? Stop wasting my time here," he deflects because this conversation has suddenly gone to a more... personal level, and it's something Seto doesn't like tackling.

"Why do you know Yami so well? It's not like you were friends then," Daniel accuses. His efforts in being protective of the ex-spirit should be amusing, if it weren't for the immediacy of the question. And really, Seto has the choice if he wants to answer or not. But the thing is, to be silent about this issue is to more or less confirm the man's hypotheses, whatever they may be.

He remembers Yami falling on his knees, close to submitting to a mindless puppet. He remembers hating seeing Yami that way; didn't look right. Yami didn't lose. Shouldn't. When Yami won against Malik in the final ame, or when Yami shielded his friends from a god card's attack, Seto remembers feeling a mixture of respect, worry and adoration. Good thing no one noticed, right?

But that was the truth.

It still is.

"I respect him," Seto defends.

"Everyone does," Daniel concedes.

The last time he saw Yami look so devastated was before college, before Lance. That time when Dartz took his soul. Seto recalls that memory well—sees Yami's eyes wide with horror, the realization that Seto had been planning to sacrifice himself all along finally getting through him, Yami's body language screaming that he can't do it alone, admissions that he needs Seto beside him. Seto remembers falling to his knees, looking up and unable to say goodbye. Or goodluck, for that matter. Remembers promising not to let it happen again. He hated leaving the ex-pharaoh then. It felt horrible.

"You like him, don't you Kaiba?"

"That's insane."

He doesn't want Yami to get hurt. He just wants to make sure that the former spirit will be alright—

"Then why do you care so much?"

Because I just do.

Daniel isn't angry. He's curious. Seto seriously couldn't blame the guy for that, could he?

He sighs and looks at the ceiling.

"Because I feel like it. So what?"

The conversation drops after that and silence wraps them both until Daniel shakes his head, stands up and makes him promise to check on Yami often. At the back of his head, Seto wants to be offended at the prospect of being reminded. The kid in him, he reasons.

"_You have to talk to him and see how he's doing. Promise me you will, Kaiba?"_

"_Whatever."_

"_Promise me."_

"_Fine."_

As if he hasn't thought about that.

XXX

_#3: Thank you, Seto. I'm sorry I couldn't explain but thank you… for not pressuring me. You're a great friend._

Two weeks after that unfortunate incident with Yami's roommate, Seto Kaiba finds himself waking up at the sound of an incessant knocking on the door. For some reason, whoever is at the door is completely unbothered by the fact that the resident must be asleep at 3 o'clock in the afternoon because of a security breach that took up an entire night to eliminate. Seto decides to ignore it, thinking the knocking will stop. It doesn't. Seto grumpily flings himself from the bed and heads for the door, yanking it open and glaring irritably at the sight of Lance's sister.

"Mr. Kaiba, I'm sorry for bothering you but may I please talk to you?" Anastasia asks.

It takes a bit longer than he wants to, for him to actually formulate the response that courtesy warrants him to. "What are you doing here?" He questions but he opens the door wider. Just to accommodate the idea that he's going to let the girl in, he tells himself.

"I… I talked with Daniel to—to inquire about Yami's whereabouts. But he told me to talk to you."

The girl tries. She does, Seto observes. Sees it in the nervous twitching of her hands and the way she carefully avoids his gaze. She nibbles on her lips and the fray of her sleeves have been twisted and pulled on. It doesn't erase what she did, however, and Seto doesn't find it difficult to do what he intends to do.

He doesn't end her misery, per se, because really, he finds that maybe she doesn't deserve it yet.

"And why would Daniel want you to talk to me?"

"You would know where he is…" Anastasia whispers.

"Assuming that I do, why would I even tell you where he is?"

"Please," she says. She gets something from her bag. It's an envelope and she takes out several pieces of paper. Seto recognizes Lance's handwriting immediately. How can he not? He's been the guy's seatmate long enough to be victimized by his scrawls. "I—I was wrong."

Yes, you are, he doesn't say. Instead, he crosses his arms and waits patiently for her to continue.

"I didn't mean the things I said. I was upset. He was—he just passed by and I wasn't handling my brother's death well," Anastasia tries to explain and it still doesn't make that much sense.

"Anastasia, what in the world are you talking about?"

"It was me. Why he left, it was… I said some things…"

"What did you say?" Seto grits out.

Anastasias shakes her head, stubborn in her misery. Seto knows before she even moved, and already has a hand on her arm before Lance's sister could even think of running away.

"What did you tell him?" He hisses.

"I—I didn't mean it," Anastasia vehemently shakes her head once more, denial visible on her bright, teary eyes.

"Tell me!"

If Anastasia felt she could stomach the CEO's anger further, she was incredibly wrong. Seto's voice was not nearly a shout, nor was it a whisper but the tone that he had used was enough to had her squeaking her answer:

"I told him Lance pitied him!"

The silence between them was deafening that a pin could have dropped and it would have made a louder noise. Made the only noise. Seto stares at her, disbelief and anger warring against each other in his cerulean eyes. For all her worth, Anastasia can only tremble under his gaze, surprised as much as she is embarrassed at her recent admission.

"You told him _what?" _

"I told him... I—that all he could ever have gotten from my brother was his pity. That if it weren't for his lack of direction, Lance would never--"

Anastasia was honestly expecting a slap on the cheek, as insulted people are wont to do; however, she finds herself flung to the wall, pinned by the strength and anger in Seto's eyes. His eyes blazed, really. Ignited, the better term and all she can do is quiver in her spot, ashamed.

"I'm sorry," she whispers because that is all that she can say in this moment.

"No amount of apologies can amend the damage that you've caused. Do you have any idea about what you've done?" Seto glares and lets her go suddenly, mind made up. "Get out. If I ever see you near me or Yami again, I swear to all that's sacred to your brother, you will regret it."

He watches her go and tries to calm himself. His mind is reeling with her confession and desperately, Seto looks for a way to make things better. Damn it, he should have known.

At dawn, he plans to go to where Yami has gone. Now at least, he thinks, he knows what needs to be done. Compared to the day he let Yami leave, this time he knows what has been said and can easily grasp the concept that will make the former pharaoh see things rationally. Make him realize that it isn't him that's the problem. That it never was him.

Later, as he makes final arrangements, he restlessly glances at his phone. Finds that for hours, he hasn't received any phonecall or text message from Yami and that somehow, it leaves an unsettling feeling at the pit of his stomach. These days, Yami tries to prove that he doesn't need anyone's help by sending the brunet feedback. At most three messages a day telling him what Yami has done for that day. His "I'm happy here" and "Take care of yourself" were present in all. Sometimes Seto wonders if he does it out of gratitude, or if he feels compelled. Most times, Seto finds that he wants Yami to inform him because he wants to talk to someone and that he trusts Seto enough to be that person (since apparently he doesn't contact Daniel as frequently as he does Seto).

So it's of surprise that Seto decides to finally give up on what he's working and head to bed, and find no messages from the person he's thinking about. A part of him nags and complains, a part worries... but another seems to carve a hole in itself and he feels a deep set of longing. Surprisingly, he misses Yami and he doesn't know what to do about it.

TBC


	11. Chapter 10 TAG

**A/N: Much thanks to ****barrie18**** for pointing out the loophole! No worries, this just explains, in a way, the events of the next chapter and maybe liven it more. Review, though, so I'll know how this one fared, 'kay?

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**Chapter 10.5: Insight**

_Found true love, lost your heart _

_Now you don't know who you are_

- Even Angels Fall, Vanessa Carlton

The nightmares resumed on the fifth day of his self-imposed 'exile'. Someone's always burning, suffocating in the conflagration that he could never explain, and throughout these dreams, Yami always stood powerless on the sidelines. A spectator who watched but could not do anything. He hated it every time—loathed how the knowledge of such doom wasn't enough to protect the stranger from the fire. He remembered Cassandra, who once spurned the Greek god Apollo. The prophet who could see the future, only to be mocked at and ignored.

Every night the nightmare progressed in intensity, and every night he woke up gasping for air like he was the one who was drowning in the carbon monoxide. Like he was the one who was being burned.

Two weeks into this new life Yami placed himself into, he decided to get a job. There's only so much his savings could go, in the first place; and secondly, he had never really swallowed down the idea of being a bum. And so, after a quick run to the grocery, he passed by the coffee shop that he frequented in the mornings and applied as a barista. He got the job. He had the experience after all –

_"I don't see the point in you having two jobs when you have a scholarship anyway." _

_Lance's voice is laced with boredom and worry as his boyfriend changes into fresh clothes. They've spent the morning in, intentionally skipping their classes to celebrate the only time they have with each other, and the self-imposed vacation would have been extended if it weren't for Yami realizing he's expected at the coffee shop after lunch. _

_"Haven't we talked about this before?" Yami replies, exasperation clouds his tone and he turns to his boyfriend, crossed arms and awaiting a response. _

_Lance shook his head, "Yes, but it seems to me that our past discussions haven't achieved their goals. I can understand one job but two? I'm surprised your body can still handle it, Yami." _

_"I know you're concerned—"_

_"Understatement."_

_"Hush. I know you're concerned but I like doing this, okay? It keeps me busy." _

_Lance pouts. For all their compatibility, Lance and Yami are different. They've shared similarities: an overprotective streak with their younger siblings, for example, or an affinity with local bands and jazz clubs. However, while Lance preferred the pragmatic over the principle, spending time discussing matters related to the economy and politics, Yami was empowered in the discussion of the abstract and the humanities. Of course, had Lance known who he was, he would have understood the broad, borderline obsessive knowledge his boyfriend had on Egypt, or justified the passion Yami had in philosophical discussions. _

_But as much as they are a couple, they also have their own secrets, and Lance respects that. This is why he's giving his workaholic boyfriend space. It still doesn't explain why Yami prefers to have a crammed schedule every day when he can have it otherwise. "You can drop by later, if you want," Yami offers as a truce. _

_"After your shift?" _

_Yami shrugs. _

_"Can I drag Daniel with me?"_

_"Of course. He'll kill me if you don't," the former pharaoh remarks. _

But if Yami thought his life was virtually still the same, except for certain variables and changes in geographic locations, he was wrong. For one thing, the coffee shop wasn't as busy as the one he had worked at. This was situated at the center of the town, away from the university where majority of the people were. The people who did frequent the place were those who had been patrons since it opened. Meaning, the old lady who owned the flower shop, the couple who were running the grocery and basically everyone that he met on his errands.

Whatever hopes he had of his job distracting him from the confusing and equally nonsensical dreams he had had, were futile and he sighed tiredly.

What was the point of actually moving out to another city if the situation was still the same? The only consolation Yami found, at this point anyway, was that at least he could look anywhere and not have anything remind him of Lance.

Then again, that wasn't exactly true, was it?

The shift ended dully as usual and he bid his co-workers goodbye. He thought of spending some time in the nearby park and was already headed there when a black Chevy Camaro stopped in front of him.

"Sometimes I wonder if you truly know how to keep in contact."

The antagonism wasn't lost in Seto Kaiba's voice but Yami didn't miss the underlying concern there. It was surprising, to say the least: the CEO's presence here and the concern, that is. Yami stared at him before gathering his wits and responding, "What are you doing here?"

This time, the brunet got out of the car and approached him, handing a small package. He gazed at Seto curiously. _What?_

"It's for you," Seto said matter-of-factly.

"What for?"

"It doesn't make sense to drop by without giving you something," was the answer.

Yami simply nodded, unable to come up with a response to that. Not that it warranted one anyway. It was sufficient in itself so he concentrated on opening the package, instead; eyes widening when a leather-bound journal, which he presumed was blank, was revealed under the wrapper.

"A journal?" He repeated out loud, meeting Seto's gaze.

"I heard it works... especially if you think no one listens to you."

Journals were good for therapy, studies said. They weren't capable of making judgments. But they weren't capable of responding, either. The point was, however, for a troubled soul, he could pour his worries over sheets of paper and no longer fear being called shallow, insensitive and what-not. It was enough and that was why it worked.

But did Kaiba really need to give him one?

"Do you think I need it?" Yami questioned.

"I believe so," was Seto's noncommittal reply.

"Why?"

For a moment, the CEO was silent and looked thoughtful. He glanced briefly at the journal and met Yami's eyes.

"I promised that I'd be here for you, as your friend, but I'm not going to lie. You have issues that I won't be able to understand initially and I think... it's better that you have this when I fail."

Yami was struck speechless by his reply and for a few minutes, he tried to say something, only to fail and gape incessantly. Seto eventually chuckled, breaking the awkwardness of the situation.

"I have to go back tomorrow," the former priest pointed out before smirking, "Lead the way. Mind you, this better not be boring... wherever you're headed."

As expected, Yami reacted to that and rolled his eyes but not before he smiled gratefully at his former rival and kept the journal in his bag. "I was going to the park, if it pleases His Highness?" He quipped, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"As always," Seto mocked back.

A comfortable silence fell upon them as they walked to the park, each distracted by their own thoughts. Yami discreetly glanced at the brunet by his side and idly wondered about his recent behavior. Since Lance's death, Seto had been quite adamant in gearing him back to shape and although they were both stubborn, the brunet knew when not to overdo it. Something that Yami was grateful for... however, it still didn't explain a lot of things.

Like today's surprise visit.

"Everyone's asking about you. I'm surprised Yugi doesn't know why you left, only that you have," Seto suddenly voiced out, pulling him from his thoughts. At the mention of his hikari's name, the ex-spirit sighed and looked away, remorseful in an instant. He didn't like keeping things from his aibou, especially when it concerned huge changes.

"Is he okay?" Yami replied.

"He's worried."

"He doesn't have to."

"He still does."

"I know. I don't want him to," Yami whispered. "I don't want anyone to worry about me anymore."

Seto sighed, torn between exasperation and sympathy. The irritation was there, as well, but the former two eventually won out. "When people care about you, it's inevitable that they worry. It's an innate flaw, if you want to think about it that way."

"And you, Kaiba?"

Noticing that the tables were turned, Seto metaphorically took a step back and gazed at Yami warily.

"What about me?"

"Why do you follow me, Seto? Why do you even bother... I don't know, why do you bother to give me this journal? Do you care about me?"

There was a moment of hesitation, Yami thought, before the brunet answered, "I'd like to think I'm your friend, as it was something you stubbornly pushed for when we were still fighting each other. Why? Does it trouble you?"

Briefly, the former pharaoh considered the response inadequate. A scapegoat to the true response. But he also decided he wasn't in the position to demand Seto of these answers. So Yami shook his head and thought of his current situation. If he were logical about it, he had two issues he needed to face. First was the fact that Lance was dead and that he was still dealing with the post-traumatic effects the incident had wrought. How he was dealing in that aspect, he had no idea and at this point, he didn't want to know just yet. The second issue was more rooted on his past and he stifled his annoyance at his inevitability to let go of it.

Often had he yearned for the past as a key to moving on. Once, it used to be his identity, in a sense. Although he knew that he wasn't the Pharaoh, that he wasn't the one who ordered the deaths of so many people, believing it was different. It was difficult to separate the monarch from the student now when generally speaking; they were intrinsically just one being. And so, how must he deal with a problem about separating these two when there didn't seem to be a way to do so?

"If you could change your past, would you?" He asked Seto before cursing inwardly. Of course he'd know the answer to that. The brunet had been a firm believer of the insignificance of the past. Why would he even care about changing it if he didn't consider it important?

"I would."

_What?_ "You would?"

They were in the park now, approaching the bench by the fountain. Seto sighed as he sat down, eyes unseeingly directed to the distance. "I would have told someone that I knew his boyfriend."

At the confession, the CEO's eyes widened and he blushed, shocked by the unwitting manner it was admitted and the timing. He glanced at Yami who for a minute looked confused before he nodded. Seto doubted if he understood what the statement was about.

"I never knew you busied yourself with problems like that," Yami said.

"On certain occasions, I'm dragged into it." Seto grimaced before he looked away, as if to stop the former pharaoh from piecing the fragmented sentences together.

"_How would you know? You haven't even met Yami yet." Good point, if it were only true. _

"_I have—"You have?—o-on this tournament my company sponsored two years ago." It isn't a lie, but it isn't wholly true, either. Then again, what he doesn't know won't hurt him, right? "He's been having the same… problem ever since." _

"_Sheesh, Yami," Lance mutters again. "So you haven't really met him? Like, personally?" _

"_I haven't." _

"_He's awesome! Rather secretive, sure, but he's—he adores history so much. When he talks about Ancient Egypt, it sounds like he was actually there. When he does, you can see his face light up like he's reliving it and--and he's fascinating. I should introduce you to him one of these days." _

Their conversations, though unaffected, were shorter after that.

XXX

Yami yawned for the umpteenth time and his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. Most probably it was his day finally taking its toll on him, but there were also those sleepless nights to boot. Seto frowned in concern and nudged him gently on the arm. It was getting late anyway.

"Let's go. You're tired."

For a flicker of a second, Yami was hesitant and he looked at the night sky, seemingly amazed by the sight of the moon being embraced by strips of clouds. Had it been a full moon, bright and beautiful, Seto would have understood. The full moon was always a sight to behold. However, this was only a crescent and so he stood up, eyes on the former pharaoh. The man before him didn't look like the teenager he had dueled against countless of times. While the younger Yami was cocky and arrogant, proud in his every move and action, this was milder. As if tamed, _humbled_.

Weary.

"Can't we stay for a while?" the former pharaoh asked timidly, crimson eyes pleading. He didn't want to go home yet. The nights were almost always unbearable. Seto eyed him for a few seconds then got the message and nodded, conceding as he sat down again. For that, Yami graced him with a small smile. His version of thanks, Seto knew and had to fight the urge to return it.

Three hours were spent under the night sky, exposed to the cold air and the silence. It wasn't that they didn't want to talk to each other. Nor was it because they didn't have anything to talk about. Simply put, conversations didn't suit the ambiance of this environment. Things were so peaceful—surreal that one mere conversation could easily jolt them back to reality. And somehow Seto thought Yami wouldn't want that. There were benefits in denial, and he definitely understood.

But three hours were also having an effect on them and he shivered slightly despite his coat. What more Yami who was slender in frame and wearing a thin jacket? He sighed and turned to the other, honestly surprised when the former pharaoh was looking back at him. Seto's eyes widened slightly—surprised—and he reddened a bit.

"Would you like to spend the night with me?"

"What?" was the CEO's incredulous reply. Yami must have noticed his mistake and blushed, changing the phrasing quickly.

"I mean, spend the night in my house. It's late."

"It's fine, Yami."

Yami paused, before continuing quieter than before, "Please?"

And then Seto Kaiba got the message. That maybe it wasn't solely because the former pharaoh was concerned about his welfare, which in itself is tad unexpected, but probably because he didn't want to be alone. It tugged at him and he nodded instead.

"I'll have to leave early in the morning, though. I have to go to work," he acceded.

"Thank you, Seto."

Seto smiled then stood up, offering his hand, which Yami took. He pulled Yami up before leading the way back to the car. There wasn't anything else to say and so, things were quiet between them. Until halfway out, Yami broke the ice and whispered mostly to himself, "I keep dreaming about a fire. I was always watching and no one could hear me."

"Since when have you been dreaming?"

"Since the fifth day that I was here?"

Seto frowned. That long and Yami didn't bother to tell anyone? "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to bother you. Besides, you have no incentive to help me anymore."

"That's bull and you know it. You think I'm doing this for the sake of what? Some misplaced sense of gratitude?" Seto seethed and in his irritation, started to walk faster to the car. Damn it. But when Yami grabbed his wrist and bade him to face him again, Seto stopped and exhaled heavily, following. Yami looked apologetic. Stricken, of course, but greatly apologetic. "Believe it or not, Yami, but I am capable of caring for someone aside from my brother."

Yami nodded contritely. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Is that really what you think about this?" Seto inquired. He didn't know what he'd do if it were an affirmative reply.

"Sometimes I think I don't deserve this."

"What? My sympathy? You _are _my friend, aren't you?" Okay, so maybe at this point Seto had slightly given up on the idea of him liking Yami more than that. After all, it really wouldn't reap as much benefits as he wanted it to, and right now the former pharaoh didn't need it. But the denial was also difficult to push down. The urge to pretend that everything was alright in the world was very strong.

"I am."

"Then believe me when I say that you can lean on me."

"I'm not that kind of person. I don't want to burden you."

"Tough luck then, because I'm not leaving," Seto insisted as he dared wrap an arm around Yami's chilled shoulders. He led them to the exit. It was cold. "You can try and make me, sure, but I'm as stubborn as you so you might as well consider yourself warned."

Yami didn't reply after that.

In spite of that, the ride home was slightly better than the awkward pseudo-argument they had in the park. Yami gave in to his exhaustion and surprisingly fell asleep, resting his head on Seto's shoulder. Seto had to smile.

It wasn't Yami depending on Seto.

It was him trusting Seto that he would be here in case things were bad as he sleep.

That was enough to convince the CEO that things were going to get better eventually, and they would just have to take it one step after another.


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N: This chapter makes me nervous. I think I changed my approach here and I may have tweaked the plot a bit. I'm not so certain about it right now. I confess I should have known better than to write an update in the wee hours of the morning. But it was an update that has been plaguing me for a long time, and I felt everyone needs to know exactly what happens after Chapter 10. So… here's the new chapter. Originally this was meant to be one-shot but I thought it wouldn't really stand alone. I hope it didn't ruin the story much. **

**Review and tell me what it did to the story?

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**Chapter 11: Starting Point **

_Your face, it haunts my once pleasant dreams _

_Your voice, it chased away all the sanity in me _

-- My Immortal, Evanescence

_They didn't meet when Daniel introduced them to each other. _

_It was two o'clock and Yami was running late for class. He thought of using a "shortcut" as the upperclassmen were so fond of describing. But to go to the detour, he had to pass the abandoned, former science labs in the west wing, use the fire exit and run through the football field. The point was, he was late and he didn't want a tardiness mar the image he projected to his professors. Why he did use the shortcut was as enigmatic as the secrets of the universe and he darted to a sprint like he was being hunted down by cheetahs. _

_Of course, as Fate was wont to do, it was the opportune moment for him to slip and collide with a tall, moving figure that was—initially not so apparently—carrying a pile of books. _

"_Ra, I'm so sorry," Yami immediately spoke, dropping his bag and bending to pick the fallen books. "I wasn't looking and I was late. An accident, I swear…" He didn't know why he stopped but he had gotten the impression that he was being stared at and so he looked up, startled when the guy was just in front of him, an amused smile on his face. _

"_It's okay," the guy answered. He had dark brown eyes and neat shoulder-length hair. It framed his well-sculptured face and highlighted high cheekbones and a strong jawline. Yami swallowed nervously, blushing. The guy he unthinkingly bumped into was attractive. _

_Common sense had to dawn upon the former pharaoh eventually, though, and he blushed deeper. "I'm really sorry," he said. He glanced at his watch. 2:05. He's late. "Damn it," he uttered. _

"_Is something wrong?" _

_Yami shook his head, "Nothing big. I'm late for class," he answered as an explanation for the accident as well. _

_A wider smile. _

"_Last I checked, they don't hold classes here anymore." _

"_I know that… this was supposed to be a shortcut." _

"_Freshman, I gather?" _

"_Yes." _

"_Figures. It doesn't pay to listen to the upperclassmen every time." _

_There was a short pause, which Yami spent avoiding the guy's stare. Not that it was offensive, but for some reason, he kept feeling flustered and he should have an explanation for it. He didn't have one and it troubled him. _

"_Hi, I'm Lance." _

"_Hello. Yami." _

"_Would you like to have coffee?" _

"_Now?" _

"_If you want to skip class?" _

"_A pleasure." _

Yami blinked.

The clock beside him read 6:05 a.m. In 55 minutes, he should be at the bookstore, manning the counter. He didn't want to get out of bed, though. He didn't want to wake up at all. Things had been sluggish since he dropped out of college a few weeks ago and although he was yet to "blend in", he thought he had a chance to move on here. A quick look at the unopened boxes made him re-think that statement for a minute. Shaking his head, Yami went to the bathroom and decided he wasn't going to be distracted today.

It was at that moment that his phone, carelessly discarded to the nightstand last night, started to ring and he cursed. His phone had the worst timing in the world. As he walked to get it, he made a quick scan of his room and winced at the messy state it was in. There were stacks of DVDs on the coffee table and unread newspapers on the kitchen counter. He was thankful that he had it in mind to wash the plates after eating from them, but that didn't necessarily disregard the fact that his kitchen was as organized as the countryside ravaged by a typhoon. Aside, perhaps, from the boxes, everything was in disarray—newly-bought books were piled like small towers by the cabinet, his notebooks left by the window and an opened box of photo albums and mementos lay inconspicuously by the bed. For what its worth, Yami Mutou was definitely a disorganized individual by nature. Circumstances simply belied it most of the time, he mentally quipped.

If he thought the ringing would have stopped by now, he was proven wrong for it rang again and he grumbled as he reached for it.

"What?" He hissed.

"Is that how you answer a phone, Yami?"

_Seto._

Figures.

"I've barely slept. I haven't had my coffee yet and I was in the bathroom. Was there a reason behind you calling this early in the morning, Kaiba?"

"Yes, in fact. I have a very important reason for calling."

Yami couldn't help but raise his eyebrow skeptically.

"That would be…?"

"I was bored."

"You're _what?_" Briefly, the former pharaoh regretted not having his powers anymore—or at least the ability to send someone to the Shadow Realm. Then he regretted regretting his lack of special abilities. He sighed wearily. "Shouldn't you be in class? In office, terrorizing new employees, at least? Checking on Mokuba?"

"Free day, sorry. Disappointed, eh?"

Yami made a move to look at the ceiling, mimicking characters in TV shows and movies that cried _Why, God, why?! _As a sorry attempt to be lighthearted after his nervous breakdown in front of the CEO, Yami had begun mandatory movie marathons on Saturdays. Last Saturday, he set aside the thrillers and the action-themed ones and prioritized the comedies. Unfortunately, most of these comedies were light chick flicks that revolved around shallow love stories and high school stereotypes, which didn't really help his case at all. His last attempt failed miserably.

He stole a look at his clock and grimaced when he realized it's been ten minutes since he woke up and the book store was more or less twenty minutes away.

"As much as I want to be your entertainment this morning, I have work to go to and therefore must say my not-so-heartfelt goodbye. Next time, Seto," he said.

"Fine."

"Fine, bye."

The phone call ended abruptly after that. Yami shook his head, smiling fondly at his former rival's latest antic. Was it just him or was Seto actually… he couldn't exactly describe it. Supportive?

It started two weeks ago and it began with Seto sending him absurd e-mails that contained nothing but the lamest of jokes which he surprisingly laughed at. Then, he started making surprise visits, which eventually stopped becoming surprises since Yami knew the CEO dropped by every Friday after his last shift in the coffee shop. A week ago, Seto dragged him to the nearest jazz club and they stayed listening to the city's best saxophonists for hours. The brunet spent the night on Yami's couch and left the following morning, rushing for class, but treated him to breakfast first.

All things considered, Yami would have found it dubious for Seto to act amiably had he not considered the brunet his friend. It was a good thing they were friends. It didn't explain a lot of things, though. For starters, it didn't justify why he felt at ease with the person who used to fight him so vigorously, or why he felt it alright to confess to the brunet when they've never been that close before.

_Work, remember? Right. _

Fifteen minutes later, Yami grabbed his messenger bag and keys, and headed for the door.

Until the phone rang yet again.

"Yes?"

"Better."

"Seto."

"That's my name. Are you headed to work yet?"

"Yes!"

His exasperation must have slipped through the line for the CEO laughed unexpectedly. The man had such rich laughter, Yami thought idly. "This is borderline stalker-ish, you know that?"

"Stalker-ish? Why, pray tell?"

"I swear, if I'm late for work, I'm going to kill you, Seto."

"No one's stopping you from ending the call."

"Goodbye."

"Bye."

Despite all that, Yami shut his phone close and chuckled to himself.

In the end, it turned out that he wasn't late for work after all. He was on time, actually, and he thought today a productive day where people woke up, get up from bed and say, "Maybe I'll buy a book today!" Unfortunately, today _wasn't _one of those days and he had ended up flipping through the National Geographic magazine he grabbed from the nearest bookshelf. He yawned while reading halfway through the magazine. He had never been so bored in his life.

Just after lunch break and before—thankfully—he dozed off, though, the door opened and the bell chimes alerted him of a potential customer's presence.

"Excuse me, I may be lost. Can you direct me to the coffee shop, please?"

"_Would you like to have coffee?" _

Yami's eyes widened. No way. He stiffened reflexively.

"Hello? Are you okay?"

"_Is something wrong?" _

The former pharaoh stepped back and glanced at the stranger. Blonde, green eyes, younger. Not _him_, thank God. Yami exhaled and smiled wobbly. Did he miss Lance that much that he started hearing his voice as well?

"Sorry, I'm alright. The coffee shop's two blocks from here. It's beside the drugstore," Yami answered.

The stranger smiled.

_He doesn't smile like Lance_. _What a relief, _Yami thought.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

The stranger nodded and headed for the door when he stopped abruptly and looked back at Yami. "Hey, would you care to have coffee with me?"

"Uh, what?" Yami gaped and found that beyond those two words, he couldn't think of anything else to say. Was he hearing this right?

A nervous chuckle, a sheepish grin.

"I just thought… you seem to be an interesting guy. I'd like to know you better."

Yami blushed. He hadn't really thought of that. He hadn't thought of _anything _at all. But the stranger was obviously waiting for an answer and he figured, an affirmative wouldn't really hurt that much, would it? It would at least be a small step to moving on, as he was often advised to do.

"Sorry, but he isn't interested," a familiar voice piped in and this time Yami couldn't help a smile on his face. He met Seto's gaze and for a short while wondered what caused the murderous look on his blue eyes.

"Oh." The guy glanced at them before ducking his head, "Sorry to have bothered. I'm just… uh, I'll just go. Thanks again!"

Yami watched him leave before he offered the CEO a seat.

"So, what brings you here?" He asked curiously.

"That guy just asked you out."

Meet Seto Kaiba, the legendary topic-changer.

"So what?"

"'So what'?"

"Yeah."

Seto stared at him as if he had grown another head before giving up. "Nothing. I'm here because I'm bored. Mokie is with his friends. Where am I to go?"

Yami nodded to that. He had a point, after all.

"How's Daniel?"

"Fine."

"How _is _he?"

"Not so well," Seto replied honestly. He thought of the last time he saw Yami's ex-roommate and winced. The guy wasn't good with anxiety. Or worry. "He's been driving everyone crazy. Why don't you want to tell him why you left exactly? He already knows where you are. But you forbade him to go here anyway. You want to send him to the psych ward, Yami?"

The chastisement had the former pharaoh looking down in guilt. "It's not that."

"It's clear to everyone that he's _very _concerned about you."

"I know."

"He'll just probably remind you how Lance wouldn't want this for you and all that…"

"That's exactly why I don't want him to visit," Yami whispered sadly.

"You don't want reminding?"

"He reminds me of Lance. He's Lance's best friend, Seto," Yami clarified. He sighed. "I've spent months with Lance and it's long enough for me. The fact is, I think most of who I think I am now is anchored on what we used to do and the experiences we've shared. Now he's gone… and I don't know who I'm supposed to be."

"Yami—"

"I can be who I was in the past?" Yami rebutted quickly before laughing hollowly. "I'm not happy of who I was. I was heartless. I was cruel..."

Defeated and internally confused at this fast turn of emotions, he settled with burying his face in his hands. He froze when a pair of arms wrapped around him comfortingly but relaxed eventually when Seto only hugged him tighter, silent throughout. He was surprised, that was a guarantee. Friend or no, he was certain that the CEO never embraced anyone except his brother. Then again, a lot of things about the brunet were new and out of character. What was a hug compared to the others?

"Do you think you'll find who you are here?" Seto asked after a while, breaking the hug, which Yami found he missed after all. It felt nice to be hugged… "Do you need more time away?"

"Maybe…" He didn't miss the flicker of disappointment that flashed in Seto's eyes. "I don't know."

"You'll know eventually," Seto responded somberly. "Do you want to see a movie?"

Yami had to smile at that—how many times had he smiled this day? Countless, probably. He shrugged. "Right now? But I have work."

"Close early. It's not like you have customers," was the off-handed reply.

"Seto!"

"I'm stating a fact."

"Fine, Kaiba." Yami rolled his eyes at him.

Yami went to the backroom to grab his stuff, and while he was gone, Seto sagged on the chair, closing his eyes. He could still feel Yami in his arms, how he had relaxed upon realizing who it was. It was trust. Seto knew that. But somehow to him, it felt more.

"Are you sleeping?" Yami incredulously interrupted.

"Yes. You woke me up," was Seto's sarcastic reply.

"Poor you."

"Poor me."

Yami beamed at him, grinning.

Seto couldn't help but smile back.

He was in so much trouble.

TBC


End file.
